Through These Walls We Find
by Sandalaris
Summary: AU. Justin left the family business four years ago, only to find himself pulled back in when his siblings ask for his help in locating their father. Eventual Jalex. ON HIATUS
1. Prologue Burn With Me

**A/N: This is kind of a Supernatural/Wizards of Waverly Place crossover. I was thinking of how close Dean and Sam are because of how they were raised, and then wondered if Justin and Alex (who are already close) where raised the same, how close they'd be. Basically take the Winchesters and replace them with the Russos. **

**For those of you who were wondering, I've always figured that Justin and Alex where two years apart and Max and Alex where two years apart. **

**A knowledge of the show Supernatural is not needed and in fact, I kind of prefer you don't really know the other show. Except it's a wonderful show and you should go watch it right after finishing this. **

Prologue (Burn With Me)

It's the baby monitor that woke her, made her reach out to the sheet beside her, cool under slender fingers, for Jerry. Takes her minute to realize he's not there, and soft cooing coming through the white plastic device making her leave the soft cocoon of blankets.

_It's nothing. _But the insistent voice that came with the birth of her first born won't let her go back to sleep until she checks to make sure all is well. Theresa's hand reaches blindly, feeling and finding the hall switch, flipping it. She blinks as it flickers erratically for a few seconds.

Her feet make soft, muffled noises on the carpet and her hand reaches blindly for the knob, turning it and opening the wooden door slightly so as to not let in too much light and upset the baby. She can make out a shape in the moonlight. "Jerry?" Her husband is not at his sharpest when he's first awoken. He turns slightly, face still hidden in shadow, but she can see him hold up a finger to his lips, a soft shh-ing noise barely reaching her ears.

"Aye aye," she breathes, waving her hands at him lightly. She's too tired to try and wrestle the six month old back to sleep anyways. Max hadn't been sleeping well lately, waking suddenly in bursts of tears and if she can get out of being the one to put a fussy baby back to bed, she'll take the opportunity.

With eyes half lidded Theresa makes her way across the hall to peek in on her other son, catching sight of his small figure in his new big boy bed before pulling the door almost closed and flipping the hall light switch off. With the sudden darkness the soft glow of flickering light coming from the stairs is more obvious. She heaves an sigh of frustration, thinking of her daughter and her new found habit of breaking every rule she discovers, before she heads down the stairs to deal with Alex.

She's half way down when she sees him, her husband, sprawled on the couch asleep with what looks to be a rodeo turned down low on the TV.

"Max." She means to shout, her voice coming out a harsh whisper as panic seizes her and before she has time to think, to process anything other than _Jerry is __**not **__in Max's room_ she's up the stairs at a dead run and throwing open the door to her baby's room.

The scream is what woke him. Jerking upright quickly, sticky line of drool out the side of his mouth, and he doesn't even blink, adrenaline pounding through his veins as he darts up the stairs, breath harsh as he rushes nears the top. He pauses in the hall, trying to hear anything over the pounding in his chest, trying to think past the terror, already rationalizing. _A dream. _His breath slows slightly, sounding too loud in the hall of their apartment, as he feels the alarm start to slip away.

The door to the baby's room is wide open, an odd occurrence and he's still too panicked and paranoid after the recent fright not to at least go in and check on Max. Assure himself that he's ok before going off to find his wife, probably asleep in their bed, and hold her close until the mind numbing fear has dissipated.

He moves quietly, eyes still darting to the sides every few steps but he makes it to the side of the crib without incident, beginning to feel foolish for his mad dash up the stairs.

"Hey Maxie," he breathes, looking at the wide eyed stare of his fully awake little boy. One hand reaches out, meaning to touch, another reassurance, but something drips onto his hand. A warm, dark drop marring the olive tone and his eyebrows draw together in confusion. Another joins the first. It feels like his heart in his throat, stomach twisting as gray eyes slowing rise towards the ceiling. Theresa stares back, hair surrounding her like dark silk, mouth open in a silent scream, and a wide dark line of deep ominous red staining the white of her night gown in an angry dash across her stomach. If he looks hard enough he can just see where the fabric is ripped, where the skin beneath his bloody and torn, too much of the inside exposed and suddenly he's choking, back hitting the wooden arm of the rocking chair she had insisted they needed the first time she discovered she was pregnant.

He can't get her name past his lips, can't do more than stare up at his wife, into lifeless brown eyes. The sound of crying reaches his ears, breaks him out of the helpless terror that's gripped him. The baby is howling, loud sobs filling the air and Jerry notices the orange and black flames now licking at the ceiling, quickly coming closer to Theresa's body and finally he moves. Picks up Max and rushes for the door.

Justin is standing in the hall, eyes wide, staring up at his father. He barely thinks, shoves the baby into his eldest son's arms. "Take Max outside! Move!"

"Alex?" Justin barely gets the question out before he's backing up a step or two and turning, rushing down the stairs, crying baby clung tightly to his chest. Jerry turns back once, staring at the spot where his wife once was, now just a mass of flames before he runs to his daughter's bedroom. She jerks awake as he grabs her roughly, crying out and begins to struggle as he takes off after his son.

He's standing in the street, wide eyes staring up at the burning structure that was once their home and Jerry stands too, clutching a now crying two year old to his chest and let the numbness take him. Grief and rage will come, but for now he stands, his children by his side and lets the shock take over.

**A/N: I know this is pretty close to the original, but I needed a reason for Jerry to have dragged his kids into the world of hunting, and the one from the show was just perfect. The next chapter will be pretty similar to the pilot as well, but as it goes on the monsters will be the same, but the interactions and how they get around to defeating them will change according to how I think Justin, Alex and Max would react to the situations.**


	2. Finding Home

**A/N: Special thanks to Not Just A Nerd for pushing me to do this. The genres this is in will most likely change. It just fits so many, Romance, Family, Action-Adventure, Supernatural, even a bit of Angst.**

Pilot (Finding Home)

**14 Years Later**

They used to own a restaurant, he thinks. Remembers strangers sitting at gleaming tables and his mother yelling at him as he weaves around legs. Fragments of things really, but he's pretty sure he can remember his dad smiling, wide and open, before the demon and the fire. Before life became this.

Or maybe he's just blending his life with the few fragments of his remembered past.

The motel door shuts with a soft _snick_ behind Justin. He needs to get away, just for a minute, leave behind the constant company, the constant noise and be in his own head space. Dad's supposed to be back in a day or two and he needs time to decide. Grey eyes flicker back, over his shoulder to the window, view blocked by the cheap curtains all motels seem to share, but he can imagine them sitting in there, Alex sharpening a knife on one of the beds, Max using the limited WiFi to look up God knows what and feels a pang of guilt for what's his contemplating.

He pulls the envelope from his hoodie pocket, staring at the thing, heavy weight of it in his hands, the bold letters spelling out _Stanford_ in the top left corner and he feels his stomach knot in some unknown emotion. He already knows what it says, the simple plain font spelling out his acceptance, his future, his ticket out.

**Four Years Later**

"You ready yet?" His eye flick up from his laptop, from the page of interview questions he's to expect to see Juliet standing in the bathroom door way already in costume.

"You know how I feel about Halloween." His voice holds affection even its amusement. The blond just gives him a sly grin, walking over in the too tall heels and too short skirt combo that girls can only get away with on this night. He internally flinches at her choice, black and deep purple of her "Vampiress" costume, wishing (not for the first time) that she'd gone for the "Hot Nurse" or "Army Jane" instead.

"Not even for me?" Her pout is playful, but he knows she thought he'd give in at the last minute, buy some cheap costume and he smiles apologetically at her.

"Just pretend I'm a serial killer or something. They dress normal." She rolls her eyes, lips still curved in a smile and he knows she's resigned to his decision, and that she'll be back at it next year, his own mouth curving upwards in amused affection at the thought.

The bar is nice, all things considering, set for the college crowd and decorated in cheesy props for the holiday. Justin tries not roll his eyes at every plastic skeleton and rubber spider, tries not to make comments on how the "demonic symbols" painted on the counter tops are actually peaceful ones done by the Mayans in honor of their gods.

Juliet has snagged a table and is holding up a shot glass, proud smile on her face as she toasts."To Justin, and his amazing MCAT score." The grin splitting his own face is large and proud and he can't bring himself to care. He earned that score.

Zeke, barely recognizable under the zombie face paint, clinks his own shot with them, whooping about the amount of studying Justin had to have done in order to achieve that 34. "Awesome!" And Justin has to laugh as his slightly inebriated friend attempts to high five him without spilling his drink. "You can go anywhere!"

The alcohol burns on the way down and Justin tries not to choke on it. He's never been much of a drinker. "Actually, I've got an interview here. Monday." With a score like his, he could go to any medical school in the country, but he's moved nearly his whole life, and the idea of staying right here, of not _having _to go fills him with a kind of warmth. Or maybe that's the whiskey.

A hand lands on his leg and he glances back over to see Juliet leaning close. "You earned it." Her voice is soft, eyes full of love and joy and such pride in him that he can't tear himself away as she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips.

He's slightly buzzed as they made their way back, no thanks to Zeke who didn't seem to understand what Justin meant when he said he had a low tolerance for alcohol and kept buying him celebratory shots. He avoided most of them, discretely passing them to Juliet who could more than hold her liquor, but enough got into his system that as soon as they get home and into bed sleep claims him quickly.

There's a rustle and a muffled bang interrupting his sleep and years of training has his eyes open and adrenaline pumping before he even has time to convince himself it's the neighbors, but the soft _eek _of a floor board in the living room has him up and out of bed moving softly in both habit and an effort to not wake his sleeping girlfriend.

A shadow moves in front of the living room window, low down and slow, and he moves quickly, arm coming up to wrap around the intruders' shoulders, his other moving lower to trap the arms, but the figure is small and quick, twisting out of his reach in a move that feels familiar, a small hand coming up grasp his wrist on his upswing and a leg comes out to sweep under his. The fact that his opponent is female doesn't slow his reaction, his own hand twisting up to lock on hers as he avoids the sweep, free arm coming up, elbow bent, aiming for her jaw. She anticipates the move, stepping into him and using his own momentum and a heel to the back of his knee to tumble him to the ground, the locking of his leg around her calf is automatic, the twisting of his body bringing her under him, and he uses his larger size to try and knock the wind out of her. He's got one of her hands pinned to his chest, but her fingers are at his throat, he's reaching for them when a voice cuts through all the instinct and reactions he's been going on.

"Jesus, Justin."

He finally looks down at the familiar face, and older Russo just has time to blink before his eye brows come together in confusion. "Alex?"

The eye roll and grunt as she tries to dislodge him is so completely Alex that it takes him a second to move, standing up just in time to avoid the knee to the groin. She never did fight fair, something their father always praised._ "Most things won't fight fair. You shouldn't either." _

He doesn't bother to offer her a hand, knowing that he'll receive either a glare or a hard yank back down for his effort depending on how playful she's feeling. The first thing he notices when she's standing and finally in full view is that she cut her hair, the long wavy locks now cut blunt and straight at her chin. It make her look older, or maybe that's the years it's been, although she still looks younger than her age, barely legal. _Jailbait._

"What are you doing here?" The words come out a little harsher than he means them to, but it's been a year since he's had any contact with his family and almost two since he's seen any of them. It's jarring to see his baby sister standing in his living room in the middle of the night.

"Can't a sister come and visit her brother while he's away for school?" Her voice is too innocent, her grin the perfect "I didn't do it, officer" but her eyes spark with mischief. He's surprised at the warmth he feels at that; that she's still the same Alex.

He's still the same Justin though, his face setting into stubborn lines and his arms crossing across his chest. "Alex. Why are you here?" He's not sure if it's the parental tone or the time of night but his sister's smile drops, face taking more of a serious overtone before she makes a point of rolling her eyes, weight shifting slightly into a more comfortable stance as she levels her gaze back on him.

"It's been th-" The sudden brightness interrupts her, both Russos turning to see a sleepy Juliet standing in the hall, blond hair a mess and brown eyes blinking at them, one hand still on the living room light switch.

"Justin?" Her eyes are unsure. He can that her face is full of meaningful questions and realizes with a start that he's in his pajamas with a strange girl in their living room in the middle of the night.

"Juliet. Uh, this is..." he turns to his sister, whose taking in the t-shirt (clearly one of his) clad girl with a raised eyebrow and head tilt, "this is my girlfriend, Juliet. Juliet this is my sister Alex." He feels suddenly uncomfortable, resisting the urge to shift from foot to foot in a show of weakness. It feels strange, them meeting, like it wasn't supposed to happen and he rips his gaze from where it was studying his bare feet back his girlfriend.

There's a small smile tugging on her lips before confusion sets in again. He's mentioned Alex before, and Max, but only ever in vague passing and he gets the feeling she always assumed they died before he ever got to Stanford.

"You," says Alex, breaking the question filled pause in the air, "are way too pretty to be dating my dork of a brother. What's he paying you to make him look cooler? And let me warn you, it's not worth it." Her voice is all light teasing and easy sibling jabs and Justin lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "But if you'll excuse me, I kind of need to talk to my brother for a minute. Family stuff."

The blonde turns to him, her eyes silently asking if he's okay with this. Justin wants to tell her not to bother with silent communication, that Alex will know anyways, but instead he flashes her a smile, hopes it's reassuring as he grabs his sister's arm. "We'll be outside." He doesn't wait for her response, pulling on the limb in his grasp and feeling the body follow along behind.

They're barely out the door before Alex is twisting her arm out of his hand, eyes narrowed but she keeps her mouth closed; she's got more important things to focus on.

He gives her a questioning raise of an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest defensively, the urge to expel her from his apartment, erase all trace of her and what she represents from his home and keep his two worlds _separate _coming on strong.

"Dad's missing."

He opens his mouth to speak, a sharp "so?" ready to fall from his lips when she cuts him off. "He was hunting. It's been three weeks."

And suddenly his jaw snaps shut, his back going ridged in worry as he studies her face. She doesn't even bother to hid her anxiety, bottom lip caught between her teeth and brown eyes staring at him like he'll have the answer.

He takes breath, tearing his eyes away from his baby sister and the desire the look stirs in him to _fix this. _"What was he hunting?" His voice is low, serious and focused.

"Not sure." And then she's turning, working her way down the stairs leading to the lower floors and outside. He follows out to the parking lot where a familiar dark car sits and a slightly less familiar body leans against it.

Little brother got tall in his absence, broader, older and Justin feels a twinge of regret,for not being there to witness the changes into adulthood.

"Maxie."

The younger boy stares at him, a closed off look on his face and Justin wonders if he's lost the right to the nickname, if leaving broke something unrepairable between them before Max nods, a smile spreading and face opening like a dam breaking and he breathes sigh of relief.

The trunk to the Impala pops open and Alex reaches inside, pulling up the hard mat and exposing the weapons and books underneath and Justin takes a second to marvel that this is the one area his sister has managed to keep organized. She rifles through some folders, looking for the one that holds the answers.

Justin tilts his head up, eyes finding his little brother over his sister's shoulder. "Why didn't you two go with him?" He tries to keep his voice light, not wanting Alex to take it as an accusation, but she's focused on her search.

"We had our own hunt."

He says it so offhandedly that the words blurt from the older man's mouth before he can stop them, "He let you guys go by yourselves?"

Alex whips her head around at that, papers clutched in her hand as her chin raises stubbornly."We're adults." Her eyes dare him to contradict him and he bites his tongue, feels anger at their father for leaving the two of them to face the monsters of the night on their own.

Legally, it's true. Barely. Max is eighteen, and he knows Alex just turned twenty a month back. He has the countdown to every one of her birthdays constantly in the back of his mind, but it doesn't make acknowledging it any easier.

"Dad was researching some road out in Jericho, California. Guys keep going missing, leaving nothing but their cars behind. Ten over the past twenty years. All men, all with their cars found 'abandoned,' all within the same five miles of road."

She hands him pages as she speaks, articles of missing persons with faces of various men. "The dates keep getting closer together so Dad went to check it out. Haven't heard from him until he called a left a message-" she's rummaging back through the trunk, her hand pulling out what looks like an old tape player held together by masking tape and sheer stubborn will. "There's EVP on it." And then she's fiddling with it, pushing buttons on the side before hitting the one designed to play the tape.

_"..I can never go home.." _

The voice is soft, a whisper, the words said molasses slow. A woman, as far as Justin can tell, but the meaning behind her words, the _why_ escapes him. Too little to go on. It's almost scary how easily he slips back into this, back into research mode, the urge to solve the mystery an itch under his skin.

He barely puts up a fight, a few lines about needing to be back by Saturday night for the interview, because she's still Alex and she'll keep him out late into Sunday for her own amusement if he doesn't stop her. Then he's back upstairs, clothes neatly placed in the duffle bag he never could let himself get rid of and laptop shoved into its case. Promises/excuses made to Juliet and then back in the car, shoving Max in the backseat because there's no way in hell he's going to let his little brother ride shot gun.

They drive all night, Justin's head against the glass as he slips into sleep to some band whose name sounds like chocking.

He still trying to work the crick out of his neck, years of sleeping in a real bed making him go soft, leaning against the car as his sister uses a credit card with the name Ashley Tisdale printed on the plastic to rent a cheap motel room. She comes back with a room key and a smug grin and Justin can just see the slip of paper the young man behind the counter is sliding into his back pocket that no doubt holds the number to Alex's cell.

"Room 19 was taken, we got 18. And I am so getting a call from that guy."

Justin tries not to roll his eyes and they grab their bags and head for the door with the proper marker.

"We'll need to check out the bridge. Cops are all over it because some guy didn't make it home last night. Guess where they found his car."

"How do you know that?" Justin places his duffle on the bed closest to the door, Max already sprawled on the other, and it's impossible to tell if he's even paying attention to their current case.

Alex shoots him a look that so clearly says _dumbass_. "Mick or Michal or Steve told me." She waves a hand in the vague direction of the front office. "Told him things like that interested me." And Justin's pretty sure that all of Alex's flirting wasn't just so she can grab some info on the missing men, but he's not going to mention it.

One hand is rifling through her bag, pulling out clothes to scatter across the mattress before she pulls an ID triumphantly from within. "We'll go as reporters." And her grin is so wide he thinks it might hurt.

They leave Max behind, both his penchant for sprouting random nonsense and the fact that Alex only has one passing fake reports ID handy opting them to go on their own.

They pull up in a cloud of dust, adding another layer of dirt to the car that makes Justin want to wash it even more. Alex would let him, too, let him wash and wax and clean out the inside and scrub the upholstery without remark beyond his annoying habit of needing things in place and perfect.

There's a couple of cruisers blocking the entrance, the bridge speckled with men in wide brim hats and uniforms. _Small town cops, _he thinks with an internal flinch. Stubborn and closed off, harder to deal with.

"Alex," he greets, reaching out a hand to the nearest deputy. His reporters badge held his sister's first name (last name White; she never was good at names), and it didn't take long to convince her she looked a little too young to be the lead reporter on this story. Especially when compared to Justin.

"We're with the Washington Post." He flashes the ID tag, smiling widely. "And this is Cindy, a junior reporter observing me today." She gives him a grin, all sweet brown sugar and barely repressed eagerness. She has always been good at this part. It comes natural to her and he feels a small mixture of pride and envy twist in his gut. "This is the second missing one in a month, correct?"

"Umm, sorry." He seems a little flustered, eyes darting between the two siblings. "We can't give away any information at this time."

A tight smile comes over Justin's face. "Did you know the victim?"

The shift from foot to foot is answer enough and Justin surges ahead before the officer can clam up. "Any connection between the victims beyond gender?"

"Not that we can tell." There's a blink as if he didn't mean to say that and Alex jumps forward, keeping the questions short and fast.

"Any theories?"

"No. Nothing really…lik-ely." His voice fades away at the end, eyebrows coming together as he begins to realize he shouldn't still be talking. "You guys really can't be here." He looks away, accidentally catching the eye of an older uniformed man who slowly starts to walk towards the trio.

"Thanks for your time." Justin nods as he turns away, his sister by his side.

They're back in the car, pulling away before he speaks up, "What do you think?"

His sister lets out a snort, one hand lazily on the wheel the other playing absently with her hair. "I think they know jack shit." He fights a grin, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Back at the hotel Max is fast asleep, snoring into the pillows. Alex throws a shoe at his head before he can stop her and snickering as he jerks awake sputtering and blinking wildly.

"Rise and shine, Maxie. We've got work to do." She flashes him a smirk, plopping herself down in a wooden chair.

"Are we going to research the legend of that dead girl?" Two sets of eyes blink at their younger brother, one of them muttering _legend?_ the other _dead girl?_ "Yeah. Troy's girlfriend talked about it."

Alex throws him a glare, demanding he spill. Now. "He's dating Amy something or other. She's putting up fliers around town. Nice girl. Misses Troy a lot. They were on the phone just before he disappeared." The older Russos give Max impatient looks and the young boy rolls his eyes and simplifies his explanation. "There's some legend about a dead girl kidnapping people. It's on the computer."

Turns out that Max's search was a bust, all Google searches and blogged ghosts stories in vague form. But a quick search in the town local newspaper's webpage pulls up a suicide on the same bridge twenty years prior. Young married woman jumped from the said bridge after her two children drowned in their baths.

It's dark when they go to check out the bridge, more for the convenient lack of cops than any real need for darkness. Alex already bitching about leaving the car to get out and walk the bridge.

"Don't see why we can't just drive it out on the bridge. I mean, that's what it's made for. Crossing." She scoffs at them both, flipping her hair back and rolling her eyes like she's still in high school.

Neither boy bothers to comment, walking along the bridge, glancing into the water.

"Now what?" Max is looking at Justin when he asks, like he'll have the answers and the older boy remembers that that was his role, research and answer guy. Intelligence gathering, his father had called it.

"Well, this is what Dad was doing when he disappeared. We follow the same path he was on and it should lead us right to him." He doesn't say more, doesn't say that he doesn't know what Dad's next step would be. Find the bones, salt and burn them maybe. But if it was that simple then why would he be missing? Why did he call Alex and leave an undistinguishable message? There's too many questions and Justin's feeling more than a little frustrated with not having the answers.

He doesn't get to voice any of this aloud before Max is pointing behind him. He turns just in time to see a figure in white disappear over the edge of the bridge. The three of them stand there in stunned silence when the sudden roar of the engine breaks the night air, headlights shining on the siblings as they turn to look.

"Please tell me you left the keys in the ignition." Gray eyes turn in time to see Alex hold up the keys. "Run." His voice is harsh, slightly panicked as they all turn and take off. He can just make out Max diving over the side of the bridge and curses under his breath before Alex is grabbing his arm, yanking them to the side and over the railing.

They cling to the edge, sneaker clad feet digging into metal frame and arms wrapping around the rail. He can hear tires squealing to a stop, winces at the thought of what that does to the tires as his eyes scan the waters below, looking for any sign of his brother.

He doesn't realize one hand has landed on his sisters forearm, connection to remind himself that she's ok, until she speaks. "I'm fine, Justin."

He helps her climb back over onto the bridge and then they're both leaning over the edge, calling their brother's name and silently praying he's ok.

It feels like hours before they seem him, pulling himself on the bank covered in mud. He lets out a whoop, laughingly loudly into the night. "What a rush!" he shouts up at them, "Think I can do it again?"

Neither bother to answer, waiting until Max finds his way back to the bridge and getting in the car. Justin forces him to sit on his hoodie, muttering about getting mud out of the seats being a bitch. He might have to toss out the sweater, but it'll be worth it to save the car from one more stain. Alex complains the entire ride back to the motel about the smell, rolling down the windows and threatening to tie Max to the hood.

He doesn't smell any better by the time they pull into the motel's parking lot, and the mud is starting to dry and flake. There's a plan forming in the back of Justin's mind if Max decides to refuse a shower, and knowing his little brother is a possibility.

It's as he's passing room nineteen that the thought hits him. He feels like an idiot for not realizing before. He stops abruptly, Alex nearly bumping into him. For as long as he can remember their father had insisted on renting the same room number, in case they ever got separated and needed to meet up in another town.

"Room 19," he whispers, turning to his sister. It takes her a second before her eyes dawn in understanding and then she's kneeling before the door, fishing her lock picking kit out of her boot as she goes down. Max is still standing a few feet away, before their own room and Justin waves him on. "Go wash up, we'll only be a minute."

When the door opens, they find papers covering the walls, some torn from books others obviously printed from internet pages, in various stages of worn and differing shades or yellow. They move swiftly, silently around the room.

"Do you ever think about Mom?" Alex's voice surprises him and he turns to see her holding a picture of Theresa, smiling indulgently at the camera in the kitchen of the apartment he barely remembers. This isn't the first time she's asked that question, isn't the first time she's dug for some answers about the woman she doesn't even remember but has affected her life so much. He used to wonder if she'd grow up to look like their mother, if there'd be some spitting image of the woman they'd all loved walking around. It'd been almost a relief when she hadn't. Except her coloring. Out of the three of them, she's the only one to inherit their mother's caramel smooth skin, looking every inch of her Hispanic heritage, while the Italian comes out strong in her brothers.

"Yes." His voice is just over a whisper and she turns to look at him, their eyes meeting and he thinks that's another thing she got, their mother's eyes.

"Tell me about her."

Justin's both grateful and sad for these times. Times when he has to relive what he knows, add in what his father told him growing up after one too many drinks, slurred words and tears as the man grieved over his lost wife.

"She had a temper. Would start shouting in Spanish if you got on her bad side. Didn't even matter that you couldn't understand a word, you knew you were in trouble." They both continue moving around the room, not looking at each other, letting Justin's voice wash over them as they searched for whatever it is Jerry was trying to discover. "And she liked to bake. Anything and everything. Insisted on a full cooked meal every night. Including desert. You used to smear chocolate cake on your face, trying to eat it by the handfuls and Mom would just laugh and say you were the cutest thing and that she was glad someone enjoyed her cooking so much. She smelled like flour, and like fruit. Some sweet perfume she bo-"

"I think I found something." It doesn't matter that she interrupted and Justin makes his way over, looking over her shoulder as she points to a paper on the wall. "'Woman in white,'" she reads from top of the page. "Dad figured it out." She glances at him over her shoulder, watching him take in the article below, the one they found talking about the woman's suicide; Constance Welch.

"Why didn't he destroy the body?"

"Maybe he couldn't find it." It's unlikely, but neither want to speak the other option out loud; that perhaps something stopped him before he could. They've read the article, there's no mention of the burial spot, but her husband is mentioned and they glance at each other, silently planning between them their next step before turning to gather up what they can to take back to their room.

Justin pauses when a leather bound manuscript catches his eye.

"Dad's journal." Alex looks over at him, eyes staring at the book in his hand before moving up to his face and he feels the worry he's been fighting down rise up as she goes pale.

**A/N: I debated changing the car, but I couldn't NOT have the Matallicar. **

**I hate that some of my favorite lines from the show don't work in this version. Guess I'll either give up on them or sneak them in somewhere else.**


	3. Come Back To Me

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the great feedback. **

**A few people asked if the Russo children were wizards, and that will be addressed, but not until chapter twenty or so. **

**I may need to increase the rating eventually, not sure. It gets blurry around the T vs M area. There will be a few f-bombs and mentions of sex. **

Pilot (Come Back to Me)

Her father has kept a journal since before Alex can remember, some of her first memories consisting of trying to peek over the top of cheap wooden tables as Dad sat hunched over the worn leather, pen or pencil held tightly between his fingers as he tried to carefully jot down what he knew, what he'd learned.

The leather feels warm in her hand and she runs gentle fingers over the cover. Justin's outside, calling the blonde girl back in his other life to check in. The majority of the papers from Dad's room are scattered on the floor, surrounding the bed she currently occupies, they'll go through them later, when this case is over.

She jerks her eyes away from the brown journal as Max walks in from the bathroom, hair wet and dripping slightly and shirt damp. There's no sign of the foul smelling mud and Alex doesn't have the energy to make sure he washed his hair with the hotel's cheap shampoo.

"Where's Justin?"

"Outside." She turns back to the journal, notices her little brother eyeing it, but if he realizes the importance, realizes their father would never have left it behind, he doesn't mention it. With a stubborn set to her shoulders, resolve coming on suddenly as she shoves the worry and fear into a box, she opens the journal thumbing to a random place and starts to read the page. She smiles when she sees the rough sketch, the first of many that Dad asked her to draw into the ledger. Thirteen and finally allowed to tag along with her older brother and father, a simple poltergeist that turned out to be not so simple and after, when back at Uncle Kelbo's, Dad trying to describe with beast they'd encountered with inaccurate words. She wanted to help, grabbing up a random sheet of paper and began to sketch out the creature. Daddy had been so proud, sharing his journal with her, asking her to draw out each of the monsters they came across.

"Cops." Once again Alex is wrenched from her musings, head whipping towards Max standing by the curtains and she quickly stands up, coming over to stand beside her little brother. Outside there's the officer from the bridge, talking to Justin, questioning him by the looks of it. Her brother looks calm, the slight tightness in his shoulders the only give away to the tension he's feeling.

"Grab your stuff. Clean up." Training sets in, the two siblings moving around the room, grabbing what they need, what will incriminate them if the uniformed man finds a way into the room, leaving behind clothes and stuff they can come back for. The papers get stuffed in a random duffle bag and Alex grabs up Dad's journal, tossing the bag onto her shoulder and turns around in time to see Max holding his own, hair a mess and half in his eyes. Motel key in her back pocket, the Impala's keys dangling from her fingers they walk quickly, little brother standing by her side between her and the cop talking to Justin.

Tossing the bags in the back and starting the car and pulling out, she catches her brother's relieved smile in the review mirror as she shifts out of reverse and drives out of the parking lot.

"Grab that bag." Alex indicates over her shoulder as she speaks and the younger boy turns in his seat, arm reaching into the back for the duffle she tossed there. "There's an article in there on Constance Welsh. See if you can get her husband's name."

The bag hits her shoulder as Max settles back in his seat, duffle in his arms, and she shoots him a glare he misses before turning back to the road ahead of them. The sounds of paper rustling fills the car and Alex has to jerk to avoid an elbow as Max continues his search. It takes a few minutes, and the impatient girl has to bit her lip from snapping at him to "hurry up!"

"Ah ha!" He holds the page aloft in triumph, carelessly tossing the unzipped bag in the back and Alex rolls her eyes as the pages go everywhere. Justin's going to have to clean that up later. "Joseph," he declares, eyes still lightly scanning the page as his sister pulls into the gas station they'd stopped at for breakfast on their way into town.

Parking besides the run down building, the brunette gets out, pausing before shutting the driver side door to stick her head back in. "Stay here."

She asks the middle aged woman behind the counter for a phone book, flipping the pages to the W's, finger running lightly down the row of names until she gets to Walsh, Joseph and silently thanks whatever deity looks out for hunters that there's only one. Ripping the thin page from the thick paperback, she yells a quick thanks over her shoulder as she tosses it back to the gas attendant, ignoring the protests and rushes back out to her car.

"Alrighty, looks like we have an address." Shooting a wide grin at her brother as she turns the key, backing up and out of the space, Alex passes the paper to her brother. "Don't lose that." It's not a guarantee that her words won't seal the papers fate out the passenger window, but she's got sharp eyes and years of experience in deal with Max and all that he entails. Her brother places the page over the printed article found in Dad's room, finger lightly tapping the edge to some beat in his head.

It takes a good ten minutes to find the area of town Mr. Walsh lives in, and other five to find the worn mail box with the correct numbers.

"Is this it?" Max doesn't respond, the siblings spending a few seconds staring at the run down trailer and patchy lawn. The article had made the family sound respected, well off, but a lot can happen in twenty years.

The two get out of the car, working their way over the littered yard, one hand coming out to knock on the screen door only for it to open unexpectedly, a balding man stepping out to meet them.

"Joseph Walsh?" Her brother stands just behind and to the left, a silent support at her back and clearly displaying Alex as the lead in this.

"Yeah." His voice is untrusting, his arms coming up to cross over a thin chest defensively and his eyes narrowing.

"The Joseph Walsh that was married to Constance Walsh?" She gives her best innocent smile, head tilting to the side ever so slightly as Joseph let out a frustrated sign.

"Is there an article in a newspaper or somethin'?" He doesn't sound irritated enough to put either of them off, like he'll close off if they push. At her raised eyebrow, she practiced, he continues, "There was some older guy here, not too far back. Asking questions about where she was buried and stuff." His defensive posture relaxes slightly, one hand going into his pocket the other to scratch at the back of his neck.

Alex's cell phone is out of her back pocket, flipped open and scanning for the photo of their father. "This the guy?"

He squints as he leans forward, trying to get a better look at the graying man on the screen. "Yeah, that's him."

"And what did you tell him? About where your wife is buried." Her voice sounds just a touch too eager and the Latina mentally berates herself for potentially screwing this up.

A look passes over his face, suspicious and unsure. "A plot," he answers at last, "by my old place. On Brekenridge."

"Why did you move?" Joseph's focus moves to Max, who up until that point had been silent.

To her surprise, his face softens, eyes going sad. "I'm not going to live in the house my children died. The home I made with Constance. She was the love of my life."

Alex feels a sudden stab of anger at his words, allowing her face to tighten and eyes narrow now that they've gotten all the information that they need. "So you only ever loved her? Never anyone else?" He blinks rapidly, surprised by her abrupt shift in mood. "Never even looked at another woman? Do you know what a Woman in White is?"

Max's hand comes out to rest on her arm, not enough strength to hold her back, but a steady reminder. Of what she's not sure, but it helps her draw back slightly, allows her to take a quick breath, eyes moving to the side to stare at the ground for a second as she grounds herself.

"It's a myth, or legend or whatever." She looks back at him, seeing him standing half frozen before her, uncertainty growing. "Every Woman in White looks different, are different women, but they all have the same story; when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful. They have some kind of nervous breakdown. Can you blame them? I mean, really?" He swallows hard, still caught in her story, the tilt of her voice. "They kill their children and then take their own life after realizing what they've done. Their spirits are cursed. Angry and wondering back roads in search of other unfaithful men. And killing them."

"No." His voice shakes, eyes watery as he backs away from the two of them. "Constance would never do that. She loved our childr-" Joseph takes a shaky breath, turning away as one hand comes up to rub at his face. "I had my faults. I made my mistakes." He faces them, face barely composed and hard, "but I loved my wife. Now get the hell off my property."

Max pulls her back towards the car, calling, "It was nice talking to you," over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door. Alex get's in on her own side, forced to do the awkward dance to dig the keys out of the front pocket of her jeans from a sitting position before starting the car and driving off.

"Call Justin. Should have been enough time for Mr. Back Woods Cop to have finished up." The younger Russo pulls out his cell (from inside his shirt, she doesn't even want to know how he managed that) quickly hitting the speed dial button he'd assigned to their brother after discovering he was coming along. A little too optimistic in her opinion, but she's not going to argue with him.

"Hey, Justin, my man. How's it hangin'?" Alex suddenly regrets letting him entertain himself with a marathon of teen movies during their last hunt. She feels a thread of relief that Justin answered, that he wasn't currently handcuffed in some police station that would force her and Max to plan an elaborate escape. With ninjas. "… nothing much. Went to the white lady's husband's house. He's got this cool old truck in his yard. Sitting on cement blocks. Not sure how he drives it. Was going to ask him but then I noticed it didn't have wheels."

Her mouth opens to snap at him, tell him to ask Justin what the cop wanted but apparently Justin beat her to it as Max abruptly quits talking, making small "emhm" noises into the phone before turning to look at her. "Justin said to ask you if we found out where she's buried at."

"Yeah, we did." Not bothering to point out that Max was there and would know if they found that out, Alex's foot presses a little harder on the gas, eager to get back to the hotel and get Justin. And maybe some food. She hasn't eaten since breakfast that morning and combined with the four hours of sleep they got before going to investigate the bridge its building up into a headache.

Her brothers chat a while, and only hearing Max's side make it impossible for Alex to really get a grip on what they're saying. It feels nice and irritating at the same time and the young hunter feels a sense of relief when the pull into the motel's parking lot.

Justin's standing in the door way, looking far too calm and refreshed for Alex's likely. She tosses him the keys as she pushes past, grinning evilly at him. "You got questioned." Gray eyes widen comically as he sputters for a few minutes, Max shoving past him laden down with both bags. It'd been a rule ever since Justin got his license, or at least the fake one Dad made for him at fourteen; get questioned by the cops, you make the next food run. "I'll have a bar-b-q bacon cheeseburger with curly fries and a chocolate shake with whip cream on the bottom."

"And I want a double cheese burger with peanut butter and some twizzlers. And grab some extra packets of mustard. They never give enough to dip all my twizzlers in." Justin just rolls his eyes, grumbling some nonsense about not eating healthy enough and holding out his hand for one of credit cards. She takes pity on him, mainly because she doesn't want him to be late back with the food, and gives him one with a more gender neutral name.

When the door shuts and the sound of the Impala fade away, Alex gets to work on organizing the papers still in the duffle bag, piling them to two sections; trash and might be important.

A cell phone ringing pulls her from her task, a quick glance at the screen showing Justin's name and she looks at the clock sitting on the night stand, the red digital numbers revealing it's been nearly fifteen minutes since he left, before flipping the phone open. "You better be on your way back."

The older boy doesn't seem disturbed by her lack of a greeting. "So I take Sprigg to get to that fast food place just outside of town, right? Or was it Bloomsfeild?"

"Oh my god, Justin, tell me you're not lost." It'd be funnier if she wasn't so hungry, if the pounding behind her temples wasn't getting worse the longer she stared at the text on the various pages surrounding her.

"I'm not lost!" But his voice is too quick, too defensive and Alex fights the urge to roll her eyes, knowing he won't see. "Ok, so maybe I'm a little lost, but I've never been here before and it's not like this car has a navigation system."

"Where are you?" One hand comes up to rub her forehead, eyes closing as she tries to think of the name of the road they came in on.

"I'm not sure." She doesn't bother to hold her groan of frustration at the admission. "It's dark and there's no signs. There's some trees off the right and what looks like farm land on my left and…Alex." His voice suddenly drops down low, and Alex feels her head snap up, eyes opening but unseeing as all her attention is drawn to what he's saying. "I know where I'm at. The road Constance is haunting, I'm there." She can hear the car slowing down, almost coming to a stop but before she has time to yell at him not to stop, they don't need to give ghost girl an excuse to get in the car, he's moving again.

The phone is tight in her hand, listening with all her might before there's a slamming of the breaks and her heart freezes in her chest. "_Take me home." _The voice is feminine, light and breathy and the phone fills with static.

She can just barely make out her brother's firm "No" over the white noise before she's off the bed. Max looks up from channel surfing in alarm, getting up and following her out the door without a word. Before she has a chance to full scan the parking lot he's picked a car, a dark four door, lock undone and the space under the steering wheel torn open, wires exposed by the time she reaches the vehicle.

She curses herself for leaving all the weapons in the Impala as she climbs in the passenger side, barking to Max to get to county road 419 as the car roars to life. Max doesn't have his license, not a real/legal one. It's never been an issue, he learned how to drive from dad and Alex or Justin always insisted on been the one in the driver's seat, but at the moment she's too focused on her phone to even attempt to keep them on the road and she realizes with a sinking feeling that she can hear the sounds of the Chevy moving once more. There's broken words, only half heard as the phone goes in and out, static marring the back ground each time she catches any sort of sound.

The black top disappears beneath their tires and Alex silently urges Max to go faster and for once he seems to hear her. She prays silently, that Justin's ok, that they make it in time, that that Constance bitch doesn't hurt him, that no cops catch them speeding down the highway.

It takes them half the time it took Justin to reach the bit of road the Woman in White haunts, but it feels longer, like an eternity trying listening to white noise, catching only half formed words and trying to piece together the sentences.

_"I-… -ever…-ome.." _"..-ared t-go.."

A house appears almost out of nowhere and Max pulls off, slowing down to avoid skidding as they speed into the driveway. There's the Impala sitting silently in front and Alex is out the door before the car's even fully stopped, phone tossed uselessly in the passenger seat, at a dead run towards the Chevy's driver's side door. There's a dark haired woman pressed against her brother, trying desperately to enact a response, but Justin's eyes are shut tight, his arms down by his side and as Alex moves closer she can hear him. "I'm not unfaithful. You can't hurt me. I'm not unfaithful."

The angry spirit moves in jerky half stops, flickering in and out like she can't quiet stay solid, one hand caressing down her brother's chest. _"You wi-"_ but whatever else she was going to say is cut off as Alex draws near, shoving the upper half of her body through the open window and Constance draws back at the intrusion of the other woman before blinking out.

She's only gone a few moments before she's flickers back, eyes moving back to Justin, but Alex's distraction provided what her brother needed. One long arm shoots out, grabbing Alex by the back of her shirt and hauling her full bodily into his lap as he turns the key and slams his foot on the gas. "I'm taking you home." Alex would laugh at the statement but the car is surging forward, breaking through the railing on the porch and front wall of the house, wood and dirt flying before they end up parked somewhere in what used to be the living room.

She glances back over her shoulder at Justin, watching him cough slightly and look at the mess he made in stunned disbelief before they're both awkwardly trying to climb out of the car. Constance stands a few feet away, face impassive as she stares at them then up the stairs, quick little flickers back and forth that leave Alex feeling like she's an unwelcome guest in her home. The duo work their way to the trunk, where the salt and accelerant are, hoping Max had the foresight to start digging up the unhappy dead wife's grave while they were driving through the house.

That hope is dashed though when Max shows up in the entrance to the giant hole they made with the car. "Dude, I have got to try that." Alex curses at her idiot brother while Justin looks between Alex, Max and Constance, like he's trying to figure out some way to protect both his siblings from the spirits vengeful wrath while trying to predict the next move.

Before anyone can do anything though there's a sound, so soft Alex is surprised she even heard it at all. The steady trickle of water can be heard and Constance freezes, her dead eyes glued to top of the stairs.

_"Mommy?" _Nobody moves as two figures appear, flickering down the stairs and towards the now terrified form of Constance. _"You're home now?" _They're young, the oldest no more than six or seven, reaching with tiny chubby hands towards the woman at the foot of the stairs. She reaches back, eyes full of grief and pain and Alex feels a flicker of pity for the poor woman before she remembers the car and what almost happened to her brother. There's a sudden rush of energy when their hands touch, flickers of light and fire and a high pitched wail that sounds vaguely like crying as the three figures flicker and blink, dying out in a rush of wind and crackle of energy that leaves her hair feeling like someone had rubbed a balloon on it.

She wants to make some crack about that being easy or yell at Justin for not getting their food and getting back, but instead she turns, wrapping her arms around the older boy, pulling him close. His own arms come up, one arm going around her back and the other pulling their brother who was walking closer in to join the hug and she breathes easy.

It's Justin who finds it, when they're back at the motel, packing up their stuff. A nearly blank page in Dad's journal with Alex's name written on it and five numbers scrawled underneath. "Coordinates?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look.

"Must be. You know Dad. Used to use this when one job would lead to a new one and he didn't have time to come by and pick us up."

"Wonder where it's too." She's already off the bed, practically bouncing over to the laptop, still on the adrenaline high from dealing with Constance the Bitchy Ghost. They had dug up her corpse, salting and burning the remains as a precaution. Doesn't take her long to look it up, pointing to the spot on the map when Max comes over to see. "Black Water Ridge, Colorado. If we hurry we can make it by morning."

She's already shutting the computer, removing the cords from the wall as she starts to gather their stuff when Justin's words stop her. "Alex, I can't. I have that interview. I have to get back to Stanford." For a second he expects a fight, she's frozen for a moment before she looks at him, face closing off.

"Right." Her head is nodding quickly, eyes dropping to her hands and their task of wrapping up the wires before she gives up and drops them in its carrying case. "Yeah. Ok, let's get moving. The faster you get back, the faster me and Max can go find Dad." Her voice is carefully neutral and Justin feels it stab through him. Alex is never neutral, not with family. She's either loudly opinionated or bored, but the careful blankness she's exuding now makes his chest ache. He stays silent though, as they pack the car and pile in, Alex immediately popping in a CD and cranking it up to near deafening levels.

They drive in near silence, not even Max breaking it. A miracle he thinks until he looks back to find his little brother fast asleep, face slightly pinched and breathing deep and even. He thinks about sleeping himself but one look at Alex's blank face and he knows he won't get a wink.

The trip to Stanford seems to take more time than from it and Justin's sure most of that is due to the never ending silence between him and his sister. As he gets out of the car, bag slung over his shoulder, he can't resist turning back. "You'll call me when you find him, right?" She looks at him, for the first time all night something breaking through the mask, a flash of warmth and loss. "And even if you don't. Find him right away that is, you'll still call? To let me know how you are?" He could kick himself, for reopening that door. It had been so hard that first time, to let it go, let them go, so he could move on. Be normal. She nods though, promises she'll call and then they're pulling away, leaving him standing in front of the apartment building.

It takes him longer than it should for him to turn around, to go up the stairs, digging in his pocket for the key and letting himself in. It's after two am, Sunday morning, and Juliet's in bed no doubt. He's careful as he moves forward, placing his duffle bag by the front door and working his way into the kitchen, avoiding the creaky floor board that clued him in to Alex's visit a few nights ago. There's a plate of doughnuts on the counter, little yellow post-it note attached with a "Missed you" written in Juliet's elegant hand and a smile curves his lips when he sees it.

Smile never leaving his face, he makes his way up the stairs, softly opening the door and frowning when he sees the empty bed. He relaxes when he notices a light coming from under the door leading to the master bath. "Juliet," he calls, not wanting her to be startled when she comes out and sees him, "I'm home." And it's so cliché that he grins harder, flopping down on his back on the bed, arms spread out to the side, eyes closed in exhaustion. He flinches when he feels something drip onto his head, warm and wet, confusion coloring his face and gray eyes open slowly.

The breath sticks in his throat, eyes suddenly wide and staring at the girl on his ceiling. White blond hair laid out over her head like a halo, mouth open for a scream that won't come and an ugly red slash marring the white of her night gown, a deadly wound across her abdomen. He can't breathe, is only vaguely aware of the hot flames now filling his ceiling, devouring Juliet's body and catching fire to the furniture.

The door burst opens suddenly, Max and Alex both standing there looking panicked and calling his name. They each grab an arm and he doesn't fight them as they drag him from the apartment. He thinks about it, briefly, when he loses sight of the bedroom door and the smell of charred wood and smoke finally permeate his fogged mind, but he knows it's too late.

He's leaning against the Impala, gray eyes not leaving the sight of the burning building even as it blurs with tears. He feels Alex's hand on his arm, breaking him from his dark thoughts. "Justin?" He turns, meets her gaze, sees so much more than that simple question held and he shakes his head, turning around and opening the passenger door as the sirens reach his ears. Max gets in the back seat without a word and after one last lingering look Alex gets in on the driver's side.

He settles into the seat, noticing that he left his laptop in the backseat and wipes at the tears still leaving from his eyes. "Black Water Ridge is that way." One arms comes up to point in the general direction and Alex gives him another look. "You sure?" and "I wanna fix this" and "love you" all wrapped up in it and he tries to smile, fails before simply saying, "We've got work to do."

**A/N: Notice my smooth transition from Alex to Justin. Ok, so it wasn't so smooth but Juliet's death worked so much better from Justin's point of view then Alex's.**

**Yeah, so Alex updated the car's tape deck to have a CD player. She's not exactly like Dean.**

**Reviews=Love**


	4. When All We Have Left is Family

Wendigo (When All We Have is Family)

**A/N: I'm skipping Max's point of view because well, he's hard to write from.**

He had a psychology class with Professor Rickman, remembers a passing line in the text book about how children will often forget traumatic events that happen early in life. He wanted to call bullshit. He remembers every damn second of the night Mom died. Remembers the scream that woke him up, getting out of bed and creeping to his door and into the hall way. Remembers seeing her body, stuck to the ceiling as their dad snatched up his baby brother and ran out the door. He can still smell smoke sometimes.

The image is burned in the back of his mind, wiggles and squirms its way into his dreams some nights, but now he has new nightmares. The girl above him has hair the pale yellow of fresh corn laid out above her, skin paler. Her eyes plead with him, ask him why and he screams until his voice is hoarse that he doesn't know.

His siblings are asleep, Max in the back and Alex curled up in the passenger seat, head resting on her arm against the glass of the window, and Justin debates waking her. It's been almost twenty-four hours since he's slept, his eyes feeling scratchy and heavy and the big brother in him whispers of the dangers of falling asleep at the wheel, but he knows what dreams wait for him when he closes his eyes.

"Alex." He pitches his voice low, cautions, his sister having a habit of waking up swinging and he's trying to avoid running off the road. She doesn't even twitch and he risks reaching over, shoving her shoulder lightly. Her head hits the glass as she jerks away, muttering curses and glaring at him as the red spot appears along her hair line.

"What?" she grumbles, shooting a narrowed eyed glare his way.

"You wanna drive for awhile?" She's going to say no, give some snappy comeback before curling up to go back to sleep, but something shifts on her face, softening it as understanding blossoms and she nods.

"Sure. I can do that." He pulls over onto the shoulder, grateful for the break and they switch seats, carefully avoiding stepping into the road. There's no cars, but he's always preferred to error on the safe side.

They drive in silence after Alex eases back onto the blacktop, Justin staring off into space and Alex letting him. He can't sleep, doesn't want to, but it feels better, not having to concentrate on the road, the wheel in his hands and watching for signs that their exit is coming up.

He lets his mind wonder, skimming over the events a couple nights ago, trying to think of only after, when his siblings came in, dragging him from the fire in similar manner to what he did with Max almost eighteen years prior. Something niggles the back of his mind and he turns to his sister, noting absently the crease of worry between her eyes. "How did you know? To come back for me?" She turns to him sharply, surprise colored over her features before looking back at the road. He almost misses the way her eyes glance in the review mirror, at their brother still asleep in the backseat before she shrugs.

"We- I didn't. Not exactly. Just, thought you might need me." There's more to it, something Alex is hiding, but a stab of grief takes him and he suddenly doesn't want to talk about it anymore, doesn't want to think about a single moment of that night and he flips on the radio, allows the bubble gum pop music to fill the car and drown out the noises in his head.

Doesn't take them long to find the town, Lost Creek the name on the wooden welcome sign declares, and they follow the signs to the cabin marking the entrance to Black Water Ridge. "Why do you think Dad sent us here, to the forest?" The question has been on his mind ever since Alex had first pointed out the spot on the map, and a internet search of the area had reported nothing out the ordinary beyond a few missing hikers.

His sister just shoots him an irritated look, she was a city girl, or at the least a town girl, always bitching and complaining when one of Dad's hunts lead them to a hiking trail or into the woods.

They wake Max up to go inside ranger station, thanking their luck that it's empty so they have a few minutes to snoop around unnoticed. Their little brother makes a bee line for the little 3D model of the park sitting in the middle of the room, staring with fascination at the printed lines dividing and naming each section before asking Justin how it is they got the words onto the ground. "Oh I know," he says suddenly before his brother can answer, "a plane, duh. Whoa, look at the size of that bear." The model suddenly losing the teenager's interest as abruptly as he got it and Max walks languidly over to the wall, brown eyes fixed on the photo framed there.

"There's a lot of grizzlies in the area," Justin adds, him and Alex scanning the pamphlets.

"You folks aren't planning on going out near Black Water Ridge by any chance?" They turn quickly, taking in the park ranger that somehow snuck up behind them.

"No, sir." Alex is all smiles as she's talking, lies rolling over her tongue easily. "Our family's recently taken up hiking, part of Justin's new health kick," she elbows him in the side playfully, "and my friend Susan said that this place had good trails. We're past the ones in our neighborhood."

When it's just two of them, the cover story is friends, partners, occasionally a couple, whatever they can come up with but with all three of them it's harder to miss the family resemblance; Alex and Max with similar eyes and noses, smiles at the same angle, the two brothers sharing skin tone and built, and his sister and his matching hair and, if you look close enough, hands, all long fingers and narrow palms.

"Bullshit." He blinks in surprise, this isn't the first time someone has been able to read through their lies but it happens so rarely he never knows how to respond. "You're friends with that Hailey girl, aren't you?" Again Justin is left reeling, not sure what to say, how to respond to this new twist.

"Yep." Apparently his sister doesn't have the same issue. "You caught us. We're friends of Hailey." She's back to smiling, casting a glance his way to make sure they're on the same page and he schools his features into a sheepish grin, working his way over to Max. Little brother has lost interest in the bear and is now glancing around the room, eyes skipping over things Justin finds of interest and looking at little longer at the seemingly mundane things, like the wall.

Ranger Wilkinson heaves an unhappy sigh, frustration evident in his shoulders and face as he leans heavily on the desk occupying one end of the room. "Well, I'll tell you what I told her. According to the back country permit her brother filled out, he's not expect back until the fourteenth. So it's not exactly a missing persons now is it?" He lifts his arms, voice and body clearly saying that he expects them to argue with him on this and is prepared to stand his ground. Something softens his face just a fraction, arms sagging on his side. "I'm sympathize, but tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother is fine." He moves away, turning his back on them and ending the conversation, making his way over to the little table in the corner with a coffee pot and little white paper cups and pours himself a drink.

Alex prepares to go, getting a few steps towards the door before Justin stops her, speaking to the ranger. "You know what might help, if I could get a copy of that form. You know, so she can _see _her brother's return date. Might ease her mind a little." For a second he doesn't think it's going to work, Ranger Wilkinson just stands there, staring at him the "no" clearly written in his eyes, but he guesses Hailey must have been very persistent in her search because he heaves a sigh, looking away as he nods and heads into the back room.

Alex wants to check out the girl, her address listed on the copy the ranger made them, but the coordinates are right there, the spot in the woods that Tommy and his friends are camped close to the spot on the map Dad gave them. She makes a sound argument about gathering more information about the potential victims before rushing head first into an unknown case, but it's not until she half-accuses him of not caring, hinting that he's letting his desire to find Dad and Juliet's killer (because his father disappearing and his girlfriend dying in the same manner as his mother all round the same time can't be a coincidence) make him careless that does it, makes him shut his mouth with a snap and let Alex drive them to Hailey's place.

Hailey's a pretty girl with curly dark hair a little older than Alex who doesn't buy her "I'm a park ranger" story until Alex produces an ID, her picture displayed in the corner and Justin takes a minute to wonder how she even thought to make one.

Tommy checks in every night by satellite phone and internet, that's how she knows something wrong, no word for the last three days. She lets them look through the pictures he's sent, the videos, even leaves them alone with the laptop and Justin wants to berate her for doing something so stupid, give a lecture on how much someone can find out about you with just a few short minutes of access to your computer but he bites his tongue. He makes a quick copy of some of the videos, one in particular having caught his eye, leaving the pictures, and gives Alex a meaningful look.

Max and Hailey's younger brother Ben seem to have fallen into easy conversation, a rarity in the young boy's case, and Alex starts making their good-byes. "We're heading out to Black Water Ridge tomorrow in search of your brother. We'll let you know if we find anything."

"We'll see you there," Hailey replies, eyes hard and determined and Justin holds back a groan, thoughts of trying to keep them safe while hunting whatever creature it is that's out there their dad sent them after. "I've hired a guy." The two siblings exchange looks before forcing smiles, calling "goodbye" and "see you tomorrow" over their shoulders and heading out, practically having to drag Max away from the bowl of some red soup Ben gave him.

They find the first cheap motel they can, renting a two-bed room, Alex falling onto the nearest one the moment they walk in, declaring she's had enough nature for one day. Justin avoids pointing out that they haven't even been in the woods yet, pulling out his laptop instead and plugging the little USB drive into it.

He searches until he finds the video he wants, looking for the anomaly he caught sight of at Hailey's place. He slows it down, going frame by frame, ignoring the young man's smiling face and focusing on the tent wall behind him. A few minutes in a shadow moves across the off white material, a figure moving in the back ground, to quick to be any animal he knows of. He pulls up an internet page, ignoring Max sitting down on the other bed, pulling his bag into his lap and rooting around in it and Alex moving up behind him, looking over his shoulder at his research.

"Whatja find?" His fingers move quickly over the keyboard, finding past articles about the town that made it to bigger news.

"Not sure, but I have a theory." He has six pages open, scanning each one before moving on to the next, and he can feel Alex trying to be patient behind him. He finds the pattern he's looking for after few minutes, feeling the familiar surge of triumph. "Look at this." He points to the article, at the date and headline before minimizing that page and pointing to the next. "Every twenty-three years hikers go missing. They blame it on grizzly attacks but no remains are ever found." He stops on the last page. "Only one person's ever survived the attacks, a kid back in the fifties."

He pauses, gray eyes scanning the article as he begins to read it more in depth."You have a theory," Alex prompts, tearing his attention from the page and back to her.

"Hmm, oh yes." He gets up, going over to one of the duffles, rooting around until he find the journal, flipping through the pages as he walks back to his sister still by the computer. He lands on the one he wants, opening it fully and showing it to his sister.

"A windigo? Are you kidding me? Justin, one of those hasn't been seen this far west.. ever!" She's looking at him like he's had a screw knocked loose, straightening up and leaning her hip against the table. "What about an angry spirit? Or demon?"

"Claw marks." He pulls up one of the articles, pointing to the spot where it mentions the gouges in the trees as proof of a grisly. "It's corporeal." She rolls her eyes at the word.

"Fine. Black dog then. Or a skin-walker."

"It has a cycle, every twenty-three years. Black dogs and skin-walkers are random, coming out and staying out until something stops them or they move on. This thing has hit the same area like clockwork."

Teeth gritted, jaw jutted out she stares at him before looking away, a look of unhappiness pinching her features slightly. "Fine. A windigo is a possibility, but let's prepare for other things as well. Ok, college boy?" She doesn't wait for his response, picking up the journal and quickly scanning the page on the windigo for information on how to kill it. "Fire," she says after a few seconds, brown eyes still trained on the page.

"I think I still have stuff to make flame throwers." Her head turns to Max, still sitting on the bed, some of the contents of his bag surrounding him. Justin flinches slightly as he catches sight of dirty clothes and something with fur. Years ago he and Alex had made a pact that once every three months they'd clean out their little brother's duffle bag, burn it if they had to and get a new one, and judging by the contents surrounding Maxie, the older boy would suspect that Alex hasn't been done since he left.

Max holds up a half-empty water bottle, unknown liquid sloshing inside, triumphantly before diving back into the duffle. Alex shoots her older brother a look and they both make a mental note to pick up the needed items.

They go to bed early that night, the older Russos insisting on Max taking the bed he'd soiled with dirty socks and moldy pizza crusts for himself, they could share. It'd always been a tossup when it came to sleeping arrangements. Alex was likely to kick you if you accidentally woke her by moving too much, but Max liked to see how many weeks he could go without bathing. They both bitched he hogged the blankets. They needed an early start if they were going to beat Hailey to whatever creature it was that was hunting hikers.

They found the threesome easily, Tommy's siblings waiting with an unknown man who could only be their guide. He carried a sniper rifle with him and all three Russos tried not to snicker in amusement at the thought of this guy taking out what they suspected to be out there.

"Care to let us join you?" Justin's smile was all professional helpfulness, even as they didn't give the option, walking up and joining the group like they belonged there, training kicking in. _Act the part. Blend in. _

Hailey's eyes moved down their bodies, taking in Max, who had found Ben and was easily chatting away with the quiet boy, and his sneakers, flickering over to Alex's boots. All three were wearing jeans. "You're going hiking in that?"

Alex just smiles, head titling to the side and regarding the girl back. "Not all of us can pull off the lumber jack look." Before pushing past her and introducing herself to the guide. A man named Roy who didn't seem to buy the park ranger story even with the ID. She really needed a few more years on her before her various badges and licenses stopped clashing with her "I'm too young to vote" looks.

He's not sure how he ended up carrying the weapons duffle, Alex having started out with it before pawning it off on him a few feet into the woods. He'd make her take it back if it wasn't so funny watching her struggle to keep her composure as the trees grew denser. She was barely muttering under her breath, nothing he could hear but her lips move ever so slightly and every time she tripped over a fallen branch or exposed root she'd let out a string of curses that has Max laughing up a storm.

He realizes Hailey's talking to Alex, voice low, body forward slightly in an accusatory fashion. His sister has as much patients for people she doesn't like as a rowdy jack russell and he moves quickly to intervene, catching the last snippet of the girl's rant. "-the hell are you?"

He catches Alex's eye over the other girl's shoulder, signaling to her that he'd take care of it and she rolls her eyes at Hailey one last time, moving away as the girl sputters in her wake. "She's not a park ranger."

She turns quickly at his voice, startled. She regains her composure quickly, narrowing her eyes at him and crossing her arms. "I figured that part out."

"But she _is_ my sister, and Max our brother. We didn't lie about that. We're looking for our father, he's supposed to be out here." He doesn't add that if he is, it doesn't bode well for her brother. Anything that can take down their father, even delay him, he doubts anyone else could handle it.

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Her face has softened, understanding and compassion coming through and he fights the urge to lecture her, point out how stupid it is to believe someone so easily after they've already lied to you once. He settles for a soft smile instead.

"Easier, I guess. Or at least it seemed that way at the time. Our family's kind of… close. We lost our mom way back and ever since then we've played it close to the vest." It's an understatement, and he's playing on her emotions, trying to build a connection to her own life so she'll believe him, doesn't make it any less true though.

Alex pops up behind him, large clear plastic bag with the words "Trail Mix" printed on it. "I totally brought 'provisions.'" Her voice is teasing, but there's a hard glint underneath, a protective warning that said she'd felt that what was her's was threatened and wasn't going to stand by and Justin wonders what exactly was said between the girls.

They continued on in mostly silence after that, his sister fishing the M&M's out of the bag and tossing the "gross healthy pieces" to him. Roy stops them once they enter Black Water Ridge, confirming the coordinates when Justin asks. He shares a glance with Alex and Max, all three noting the lack of animal, or even insect noises.

Roy insists on taking point after that, Alex stealing the spot behind him and Justin taking the rear, keeping the two civilians and their little brother between them. They stumble across Tommy's campsite, tents torn and blood smeared on surfaces and Hailey is suddenly moving, calling out her brother's name as she walks around the site. Justin shh's her, "There might be something still out there."

Max calls him to the side, pointing out the drag marks leading away from the camp as Alex joins them. "Believe me now? There's no way a black dog or a skin-walker did that."

She just grumbles, rolling her eyes at him and mutters, "Yeah yeah, ok. You were right. A windigo did it. Happy now?" He glances over her head, checking to make sure no one's wondered off and sees Hailey nearby touching what's some of Tommy's things if the look on her face is anything to go by. Been is staring off into the woods, back to the site as if he ignores it it'll all go away, and Roy is walking the perimeter.

A sudden cry erupts from the forest, a man's voice calling for help, Roy, Hailey and Ben taking off into the trees before they can stop them. They follow, deciding it's better to stick with the civilians, stopping as the rest of the party does when there's no sign of anyone out there. Max catches up last, having decided to drag the heavy weapons bag with him and Justin would roll his eyes if he wasn't kicking himself for not doing the same; if they came across the windigo, or anything else in these forests, it would not have been well to be weaponless.

They get back a campsite just as they'd found it and Hailey is suddenly in a panic at their missing bags, Roy curses his now lack of a satellite phone and GPS.

Justin pulls Alex aside, speaking low, head bent closer to her leave. "We've gotta get these people out of here."

She looks at him, the "are you serious?" evident in her eyes. "Justin, it's right here. We still have the flame throwers. We can bag this son of bitch." Her face is alight with the excitement he recognizes, the same look she gets during hunts were they're _so close _they can practically taste it.

"But what about them? What are we supposed to tell them?" One arm comes up to indicate the people standing a few feet away in the camp. "There's a man-eating creature out there that can mimic human voices so try not to go running off into the woods when you hear Tommy screaming for you.' Yeah, that'll go over real well." She doesn't respond, but he can see in her eyes that she agrees, even if she's not happy about it.

Telling everyone they need to get back doesn't go over too well. Roy throws a hissy fit like Justin's just challenged his masculinity and Hailey's still determined not to go anywhere until she's found her brother. It's not until Max pulls him away, Alex coming in to smooth the ruffled feathers of the civvies that he realizes he's shouting at the guide, yelling directly in his face and nearly spilling too much.

"What's up with you, man?" The younger man's eyes and pinched together in concern, his normal care free expression taking on a more serious note in light of his brother's blow up. "You're not usually that careless with information. In fact," at that he looks away, an amused half smile spreading across his face, "I'm usually the one saying stupid crap that makes people look at me all weird."

He snorts at that, tension still running through his muscles, giving him the desire to move. "Dad's not here." The words feel good coming out, and he ignores Max's raised eyebrows, forging ahead before his little brother can open his mouth to spout some half understood nonsense. "He's never been here. There's no sign, nothing. And a big part of me…" He pauses, taking a deep breath as he feels the guilt turn his stomach, "part of me wants to just say screw it and get these people back to town and leave. Go find Dad. But doing that…people are going to die. And they'll keep dying unless we do something, but all I can think it about is finding Dad, finding the thing that killed Juliet. And what if staying here.. hunting this thing. What if it gets too far away to get?"

"Justin, in the ten years that I've known you I've never seen you not get something you've set your sights on. Well, besides the things that Alex wants too, but Alex wants to find the demon for you just as badly as you want to find it. I figured, combined, you've got like a 162 percent chance of finding it. You've gotta have patience, man. We'll get there, and until then you need to calm down a little. Or all that anger is going to kill you and Alex may just stop hunting the demon out of spite for up and dying on her."

He blinks at his brother for a few seconds processing. "I've known you eighteen years," he finally mumbles, feeling slightly better.

"Yeah, but I don't really remember the first few and Alex told me you were some guy Dad picked up to be our chauffeur, so I wasn't really paying attention to you." Their sister comes over, people behind her making camp with what little supplies they can find.

"We good?" He nods, but Alex's eyes stay on him, watching for any hidden signs as the make their way back to camp, helping the others build a fire, Alex tossing the snack she brought at their younger brother with a hiss not to burn it or else. Justin pulls out Dad's journal, flipping to the page with the rough sketch of a windigo Alex drew years before, he and his sister each taking a stick to mark the ground around the campsite with runes of protection.

"What are you doing?" He turns to see Hailey behind him, jacket pulled tight around her in the falling the light.

"For protection. Figure every little bit helps." He smiles as he says it, adding a laugh to try and make her brush it off as an odd quirk.

She nods, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear as she stares out into the trees. "What's a windigo?" He glances quickly at her, sees her watching him closely for his reaction. "I overheard you guys earlier," she explains, face a little sheepish and Justin feels a bit of respect for the girl.

"It's a story." The look she gives him is skeptical and he takes a second to appreciate the irony of her deciding now to stop believing him. "It goes that a hunter, or sometimes it's a miner, frontiersman, etcetera, that gets cut off from food and supplies somehow, and goes cannibal. Eating other members of his group." He pauses to glance at her, but her focus is on him, watching him with wide eyes. "Eating human flesh gives the hunter special gifts; speed, strength, immortality, but eat so much of it, over the years, it twists a person. Makes him no longer a man, but a monster, constantly craving more. They'll eat everything they can get their hands on, but what they want, what they crave is human. They're smart though, realizing that people going missing every few days draws attention, so they hibernate, for years. Waking up to stock up on as many humans as they can, storing them. For later." Gray eyes glance back at the silent girl, watching as she nodded slowly, eyes moving away as she tries to absorb what he's told her and he wonders if believes him, truly believes him or if when the light of day comes she'll brush it all off as silly camp fire stories.

He goes back to his runes, glancing over at Alex on the other side, catching her eye, a small frown marring her features. Finally she replies, voice pitched low and eye shining in the fire light. "If its immortal, how do you kill it?"

"Fire," he states simply, moving over a few feet to start the next symbol. She follows him around the circle, not speaking, eyes going back and forth between him and her brother sitting around the fire, Max and Ben entertaining themselves by throwing random bits of the old camp into the fire.

Darkness falls, Roy snorting at his and Alex's work and holding his rifle closer. A scream pierces the night air, the guide up and taking off into the forest before anyone can stop him. Justin signals for the others to stay there as Max and Alex take off after the guide, flame throwers in hand and hoping they can get there before he does something stupid. The sound of gun shots fill the air and Justin frets, wondering about his two younger siblings and cursing himself for letting Max take his place.

They come back with the sniper rifle, guide not in tow. His sister shakes her head at his look, and he breathes a shaky sigh. No body, Roy could still be alive.

The morning comes without anyone getting any sleep and they divide up the weapons, each Russo getting a flame thrower and passing a shot gun to both Hailey and Ben. The curly haired girl gives him a look behind her brother's back, but she takes it anyone, everyone but Ben realizing how useless they'll be against the creature they're hunting.

They walk with Justin in front, followed by Hailey and Ben with Max and Alex taking the rear, moving quickly through the forest, following the marked and damaged trees. It doesn't take them long to find a half formed trail, heads tilted back to better see the tops.

"Alex," he calls, glance back at his sister. She moves forward, coming up next to him to view the tree he's looking at. "Do these look a little.. too perfect to you? Like deliberate?" Her eyes scan the trees, taking in each carefully broken branch and well place claw mark.

Mouth opening to answer she get's interrupted by a cut off cry, turning quickly in time to see Ben staring in horror behind him, where Alex and Max had been standing a few minutes prior, the underbrush still swishing as and his little brother nowhere in sight.

**A/N: I so wanted to write more, but I'm over my word limit as it is.**


	5. Hold Tight And Don't Let Go

Windigo (Hold Tight And Don't Let Go)

She takes step forward, calling out her little brother's name. She fights the panic, pulling her training in around her and breathing through the chaos.

"Max! Max!" Justin is calling into the trees around them, Hailey and Ben clinging to each other as the Russos scan the trees.

"I saw it," whispered the younger boy, "I turned around and there it was, pulling him into the trees." His eyes are wide, unseeing. _Shock, _she thinks.

It takes a minute to get the two siblings moving, Justin and Alex nudging them along until they're going in the general direction they thought the creature had gone. They get a few feet, frustration setting into Alex as the dragged trail starts to fade when Ben stops, pointing to the ground and Alex squints to see a brown M&M among the foliage.

"Maxie," she breaths, looking over at Justin to see him grinning in a combination of pride and relief. The trail is rough, a couple of M&Ms ever step or so and Alex's emotions flip between happiness for having given the bag of trail mix to her brother when she was finished and cursing herself for eating as many of the brightly colored little chocolate pieces as she had. The little brown ones where hard enough to find, but if Max switched to the nuts and pretzels she wasn't sure even Ben's sharp eye could pick up on them.

It's a surprisingly short walk, a few dozen feet and they're find a set of old wooden blocks set into the ground as make shift steps, the last few colorful candies going down them. There's a tunnel at the bottom, Justin claiming it an old mining shaft after a quick look, half the entrance boarded up with chipped paint "Danger Do No-"

"You don't have to come." Justin's speaking to the family, they hadn't left each other's side, so close they're touching and Alex wonders if they had lost physical contact at any point since Max was taken.

"Yes, we do. Tommy's in there." She opens her mouth to tell them that they don't know that, that he could not be, but Justin shoots her a look, snapping her jaw shut. Her brother goes first, flame thrower held up and ready, stepping into the dark entrance with Alex following just after, the seconds of lost sight making her heart thump with worry before he's in her view once more.

She can hear Hailey and Ben behind her, breathing loudly, there's steps a heavy shuffle at her back and she thinks bitterly that they've lost any surprise they may have had. The tunnel is dark, her eyes not being able to adjust completely, the man-made cave going straight ahead with little turn offs as far as they can make out being a surge of good luck. There's bits of sunlight from an unknown source leaking through is small areas, giving everything it touches a bit of a glow as the foursome make their way deeper.

A low roaring growl reaches their ears and Ben starts to whimper. Alex doesn't even think, one hand coming out to clamp over his mouth, the other coming up to her lips to indicate silence, Justin by her side making soothing gestures at the two siblings. Hailey nods to him slowly, fingers clasping her little brother's hand as he calms down.

Alex wants to follow the noise, find the monster, kill it and get her brother back in that order, but a hand on her arm stops her, her head turning to see Justin looking at her, head indicating a different direction. She gives him a disbelieving look, tugging lightly on her arm to show the way she wants to go, but instead of going stubborn and pompous like she expects, his face turns appealing, "trust me" written in his eyes and she feels herself give him, allowing him to take point once more.

She's not sure how it happens, one minute Justin is in front of her, Hailey and Ben behind, the next there's this ominous creaking sound, and she realizes the floor had gone from dirt to wooden seconds before it splinters beneath them, sending the four of them tumbling down and landing with painful "oomphs" onto the cold ground below.

A quick assessment of her body confirms that nothings broken, but Justin curses as he holds up the cracked and steadily empting container that held the accelerant. She checks her quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when she sees her own weapon is unharmed by the fall.

Hailey is making panicked noises in the back of her throat, a set of human skulls a few inches from where her head landed and Alex is about to get up to shush her when a hanging figure catches her eyes.

"Max." Justin's voice holds all the relief she feels, both running over to their suspended baby brother.

His hands are bound, the rope around them tied to the rock ceiling high enough his feet aren't touching the ground, sneakers dangling lightly. "It took my flame thrower." A grin spreads across her face at the pout in Max's voice, the look on his face that of a child who had his favorite toy taken from him. Justin is the first to get his knife out, cutting the ropes above his head while Alex checks him over for major injuries. Finding none, they older Russos each take an arm, sandwiching their little brother between them as he falls and turning back.

"Tommy?" At first she thinks the question is directed at them, but a quick glance over reveals the two staring off to the side, into another alcove before Hailey is rushing forward, Ben at her heels. A look at Max confirms he can stand without him and then Justin is off after them, the younger Russos working their way over too see a dirty young man hanging lifeless from the rock ceiling much in the same way Max was.

"Cut him down." Hailey's voice is thick with tears as Justin moves to obey, the sad pinch to his features and careful movements speaking loudly about his sorrow for the family.

Tommy gasps, head snapping up when her brother touches the ropes, jerking back from them before recognition comes, a broken "Hailey? Ben?" coming through chapped lips and Alex smiles slightly as the two fall into their brother, carefully helping him down, touching his hair and face, always contact and she can relate, her left hand having not left Max since they found him.

There's an itch under her skin, only getting worse by the slow amble the group makes in the direction Justin claims the exit lies. Max is walking on his own, but Tommy still needs help, Hailey and Ben half dragging, half carrying him and Alex's right hand keeps twitching around her weapon.

"Justin." She looks back over her shoulder as she calls him, silently saying what she doesn't know how to put into words. He blinks, face wary but he nods after a few seconds.

"Be careful." She nods, telling the other's to stay close to Justin as she heads off in a different direction.

"Hey ugly!" Her voice carries in the cave, moving quickly down her chosen path in a hopes to lead it away from the group. "Dinner time! Come and get it, you sick freak! You know I taste good!"

She keeps moving, homemade flame thrower held steady as she waits for the windigo to come out. She rounds a corner quickly, weapon held out, and nearly stumbles over a prone figure lying face down across the floor. Moving swiftly, she turns the man face up, watching his head loll to the side unnaturally. _Broken neck. _It takes a second to put a name to the face, the guide, Roy. "Shouldn't have shot it," she mutters, patting the poor bastard on the chest as she stands and steps over him. Dead bodies aren't her concern.

" I'm right here!" She shouts, moving down another tunnel, the darkness broken by bits of muted sunlight. "Want some white meat, bitch? Bet I taste like chicken!"

There's a rustle behind her, the slow dragging noise of feet moving quickly over a dirt floor and she turns quickly, hair whipping around her face as she brought her weapon forward. She barely manages to pull her finger from the trigger as her brother's face registers. "Justin," she hisses, weapon dropping to her side as she glares at him, "what are you doing here? You're suppose to get them out."

"I did." He's lightly winded and a twinge of "ha" fills her that he knew how close he came to getting burnt by his sister. "But you're insane if you think I'm going to let you face this thing by yourself." She gives him a half glare, unwilling to say aloud that she's a little glad at his presence. "We found the packs on the way out." Takes her a second to realize what he means, the relief she feels knowing that they have supplies, and Roy's satellite phone and GPS device. "There was a couple of flare guns in one." He holds up a bright orange pistol. "Gave the other to Max."

She snorts turning away. "Mines cooler." He doesn't comment, but she can feel him smiling behind her as they begin to move. "By the way, Roy's dead." She spares a glance over her shoulder, catching her brother's nod of understanding before turning back.

She's just opened her mouth to let out another round of taunting, when there's movement, a small click and then a flash of light behind her. She whirls around, noting Justin standing there, flare gun in hand, before seeing the creature before him. The windigo is tall, arms and legs elongated, hands ending in too long fingers topped with talons black like a bird. It's skin a grey-ish black and pulled taut over his bones. The face is weathered, lipless revealing broken teeth the same color of it's skin.

The flare gun only held the one shot, currently burning itself out in a shower of sparks in the wall just to the side of the things head, but Alex doesn't hesitate this time, arm up and trigger pulled before she has time to blink, watching the arm of fire come out and engulf the thing advancing on her brother and her.

It screams as it burns, an inhuman resonance that sounds like its being ripped from it's throat. The skin burns like paper, red hot edges being eaten up quickly to reveal the dark twisted insides for a second before the flame catches it as well. It doesn't take long to die, falling to the ground in a smoldering, crackling mass, each piece burning like dry would sprinkled in gasoline.

Justin's beside her in seconds, both breathing harder from the adrenaline and looking at each other, silently assessing the other for injuries. "Told you mine was cooler." She grins, wide spread of it across her face and he grins back, a laugh escaping from his lips and Alex lets one of her own join his before nudging him with her elbow.

They head back, Justin leading the way muttering something about the freshness of the air that she tunes out, letting the sound of his voice wash over her without taking in the words. A jumpy crowd greets them when they finally step out, blinking into the overly bright sun. Max is pointing the flare gun in their direction, eyes trained on them before suddenly dropping it and Alex moves forward to thump him on the head.

"Ow." He rubs the side of his head, wrist red and chapped looking, giving her a little brother unhappy stare. "What was that for?"

"Next time, don't get kidnapped." She gets an eye roll for her advice, everyone turning away, trying to put distance between themselves and the things lair, Alex throwing one arm over Max's shoulders, Justin a comforting presence on her other side.

"We'll need a story, something to tell the rescue team when they get here," he tells the reunited siblings, they nod slowly, still distracted by the ordeal they just survived.

No one gets question until after their back at the ranger station, night having already fallen and the Russos having schooled the others in as much lying technique as they could. Bear attack is there story.

Tommy opts for "it's hazy" when questioned, the bruised skull more than accounting for his fuzzy tale and Hailey's own recollection flipping between too detailed to not enough, but Ben's a natural, chatting away nearly non-stop and spouting the tale with the perfect balance of exaggeration and vagueness at Alex feels a bit of pride. He'll be a natural, driving his older siblings up the wall if he ever develops a rebellious streak.

Tommy's being put into the ambulance when Hailey stops, turns around and comes back towards them and standing before Justin and Alex feels a spark of irritation. "I hope you find your father." And then she's leaning forward, kissing his cheek, and Alex almost laughs at the surprised look on her brother's face, before turning back to ride with her brothers to the hospital.

"I hate camping," she declares suddenly, pulling a twig out of her hair.

Justin chuckles, looking down at his dirty shoes before agreeing.

"I don't know what you guys were doing, but I had a blast." Max is giving them looks like they're both crazy and the older Russos just roll their eyes.

Doesn't take them long before they're back in the car, having given their statements to the rangers and medical examiners. Max's wrists are wrapped in white gauze he's already picking at, Justin slapping his hands every few seconds in an effort to stop him and Alex wonders how long it'll be before he's pulled it off, white strips covering the backseat floor board.

They make a quick stop at the motel they stayed at two nights prior, not bothering to rent a room, picking the lock to a room and stealing a shower, patching up the wounds the medical examiners missed and changing clothes. They'll need to stop at a laundry mat at the next town. It's not late, but Alex wants to be on the road, wants to leave this town and it's inhabitants behind.

"Hey, you wanna drive tonight?" They're almost out of town, houses long past and the buildings getting further apart.

"Sure." He hasn't looked up from the radio, fiddling with the dial in search of some station they might all agree on and a wicked grin spreads across her face as she pulls into a parking lot of a bar she'd noticed on their way to Hailey's.

He looks up quickly when she gets out, head snapping up and then shaking, muttering "no no no" as he gets out, Max on his heels. "You are not old enough to drink." His voice is all parental authority and goody-two-shoe smugness. She rolls her eyes, holding up her fake ID as she continues her way to the door, throwing him a grin over her shoulder, catching him sigh in defeat and going back to the car, digging in the back and producing his laptop before hurrying up after her and Max.

The bar is loud, full of rough men and cigarette smoke, and she feels it relax her. This is what she grew up in, her daddy bringing her to whatever edge of city bar in whatever town they were in, teaching her pool, poker and hunting.

It's easy enough to get a drink, plopping herself down on a bar stool and signaling to the bartender, a few well placed smiles and light flirting will ensure she won't have to pay for her drinks the rest of the night, before turning back, brown eyes scanning for her brothers. Max is by the pool table, preparing to hustle a few burly men out of a couple of hundred bucks, and Justin has tucked himself away in a corner table, laptop open in front of him, hands moving over the keyboard.

She works her way over, beer in one hand, shot glass the guy in the cowboy hat bought for her (or was it the one in with the cowboy boots?) to peer over his shoulder, downing her shot and slamming it on the table in an effort to make her big brother jump. It doesn't work and she shrugs it off, concentrating on his screen instead.

Recognition hits her as she stares, seeing online newspapers for various towns surrounding them, a Google page minimized and she feels a smile tug the corner of her mouth. Justin's researching for a hunt, something she's seen him do a hundred times, something she's done her fair share of and something warm bubbles up in her. There'd been a hole when he'd left, and getting him back for the hunt in Jericho, even temporarily, had made her feel more at ease than she had since he went off to college. And after, when the fire burned his home and his old life with it and he'd declared himself back in the game, she had felt something shift, a feeling of _finally _and _home _coming over her even as she grieved for his loss, but she hadn't realized until this moment, seeing him looking for another case, actively searching it out, choosing this life over his old one, that she had still been waiting; waiting for him to pack up and walk away, leaving her, once again.

_This calls for a drink. _And she throws an arm around his shoulder, leaning up to kiss his cheek before jumping out of his reach, throwing a smile his way before turning back towards the bar, wanting to celebrate the moment she realized that Justin's back.

**A/N: How did this end up so short? **

**Reviews=Love**


	6. For Every Action

**A/N: Thank so much for all the wonderful reviews. It makes me feel wonderful that others like my little pet project.**

**I should probably throw in a nice big warning: Characters will die! Some you know, some you don't. It's not that I hate them, I fit the character from Wizards to the best character they fit in the Supernatural world, if that role happens to be one that dies, then so be it.**

**This chapter is weird. Please just bare through it and I'll try to make it up to you in a later chapter. **

Dead In the Water (For Every Action)

"I think I got something." He looks across the table at Alex, newspapers spread out, covering her empty plate, a few obituaries circled in bright green pen. "Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Girl drowned in a lake. No body. Third drowning in that lake this year, no bodies ever found." He looks at the grainy black and white photo of the young girl, probably in her mid to late teens.

It held interest, something the last jobs hadn't. Simple salt and burn cases that had them in and out of towns not even long enough to rent a room.

"Can you get you folks anything else?" Their waitress was a bubbling blond, bottled most likely, that was working extra hard for that tip, coming by their table every few minutes.

"We're good," he said before Max could ask for anything else the diner probably didn't make, flashing the waitress a smile before turning back to the paper. Alex licked a bit of whip cream from her straw, chocolate shake long gone as she watched him, waiting to see if he saw what she did. "Has potential." She grins at his words and Justin knows she's been getting anxious the mundane hunts they've had. "But what about Dad?"

Her face goes stony, arms crossing as she leans back in the booth, eyes turned away. They've had this argument before and Justin feels the frustration in him rise. "What about him?"

"Every day the trial goes colder. He gets further away and all we do is chase one hunt after another." He's leaning forward, forearms pressed into the edge of the table, pitching his voice low so the patrons of the diner can't hear.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything. We can't keep doing nothing."

Her eyes flash, her own body moving forward, hands coming down to grip the red vinyl of the booth by her legs. "You think I don't want to find Dad? I'm the one that's been with him, I'm the one that's hunted by his side for two years." Max's head snaps up, an offended "hey" falling from his lips at being left out. "_We _were here, with him, helping him, while you've been off getting your geek on. We'll find Dad, but until then, I'm hunting and killing every nasty thing between here and there." This time Max's "hey" is a bit more defensive, sniffing his shirt and shooting Alex a glare. "Oh, not you." She waves her hand at him absently, breath going out of her in a sigh as she snatches back the paper and Justin feels that familiar twist of guilt in his stomach at the thought of leaving them behind, of letting his baby sister and little brother go fight monsters while he was safely tucked away at Stanford.

He looks down at the hard table top, and Max shifts by his side picking lightly at a soggy french fry. "How far is Lake Manitoc?" His voice is still low, but it's lost the anger, the urgency, taking on a tentative quality as he tries to patch things up with the girl across from him.

She sighs, awkwardly looking back at him and he feels some of the tension leave the space between them. "A day and half drive, maybe a little less if we push it." And he knows she will, speed through the towns surrounding without pause and he signals for the check, paying with cash and leaving a couple extra dollars for the waitress' effort. Alex rolls her eyes, gives him a look that he doesn't quite understand as she slides from the booth but doesn't comment and he doesn't question.

It takes them just over twenty-six hours to get to the small town, stopping in Iowa to buy him a cheap suite. "You're going to need it sooner or later. Probably sooner." She tossed him a folded piece of leather, a perfectly duplicated FBI badge, his photo in the top corner and the name "Special Agent Troy Bolton" printed next to it.

It's not the only badge she's made him he discovers as they pull up to the wooden lake house too meet the family of the girl who drowned, Alex leaning across him to open the glove compartment, pulling out a cardboard box and opening it to reveal a miss-mash of freshly forged fake IDs and government issued badges all with his picture mixed in with the ones she already held containing hers. Little sister's been busy. One hand searches the box for a moment, pulling out one of his new badges and tossing it to him.

There's a bite to the wind and the walk is short one to the front porch, but Justin still pulls his jacket tighter around him, hunching down slightly against and Alex snickers, her own too large leather jacket hanging on her small frame. He thinks it used to be Dad's, bought at some thrift store when Justin was six or seven, and passed on to him in high school. His sister stole it a week later.

The wood feels hard under his knuckles as he knocks, Alex at his back, their little brother at the local library in charge of research. The teen that answers is somber, face that ashen gray of someone still in mourning and Justin keeps his voice professional. "I'm Agent Lucas with the US Wildlife Service, this is my partner, Agent Stewart." He flashes the new badge, allows the boy to look at it for a moment before he comes out.

"Will." He doesn't bother to shake their hands.

"We were wondering if you could show us the lake, maybe tell us a little about your sister's death."

He nods once, eyes dropping to the porch for a moment. "Lake's out back." He leads them around the side of the house, hands in his pocket, shoulders hunched and Justin feels a small stab of grief for what he's going throw, the hallow ache of Juliet still there in his chest. Coming around the corner, the Russos get their first view of the lake, a large dark rough circle, smooth surface with a dock jutting out from the bank, an older man sitting there staring out at nothing. _The father. _"She was about a hundred yards out." He doesn't point, indicating with a nod of his head. "That's where she got dragged down." He looks away from the spot, back at the house for a moment before he turns back to them.

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?"

"Yeah," his voice takes on a thick quality, eyes shining slightly even as a small reminiscent smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. "She was a varsity swimmer." There's so much pride mixed in with the sorrow. "Practically grew up in that lake. She's as safe out there as she is in her own bathtub." He stops, eyes widening suddenly before slamming shut, face turning away, as he mutters, "was, as she _was _in her own bathtub."

Alex, who had been staring out at the lake, steps forward. "So no splashing, signs of struggle or anything?" Her voice is gentle, something Justin appreciates even as the boy before them flinches and crosses his arms at having his moment of grief interrupted.

"No. That's what I'm telling you."

"Have you ever seen any shadows in the lake? Maybe a dark shape reach the surface?"

He shakes his head, arms tightening around himself and eyes going to the rocky shore beneath their feet.

"Ever seen any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Justin adds, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

There's interest on Will's face, a spark at the thought. "No. Why? What do you think's out there?" And he can relate, that desire to have a name, to know what it is that took away something precious from you, to know what it is that you're fighting.

"We'll let you know as soon as we have an answer." He gives a smile, small and professional, and both him and Alex turn, walking back around the side of the cabin and getting in the car. "Sherriff's station?"

His sister nods, backing out of the drive way with one hand on the back of the seat, a thoughtful look on her face. "Did you see the dad?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

She straightens the car out, heading towards their destination, eyes glancing over at him every few minutes. "Didn't he seem a little…off? Contentating?"

"Contemplating," he corrects automatically. "He just lost his daughter. He's in mourning."

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth before she responds. "Yeah." It's said in a sigh, drawn out like she's only have sure. "It just seemed like a little more."

"Everyone grieves differently." She shoots him a look, Justin feeling the familiar stab of grief take him for a moment before he turns his mind back to the case. It'll take time to heal, the both know that, but it still catches him unaware; seeing her favorite book, passing a donut shop, even seeing a flash of blonde hair in a crowd makes the wound in his chest cry out, grief and pain coming on strong and leaving the back of his eyes burning with unshed tears.

They pull into the sheriff's station a few minutes later, badges ready and moving with purpose that sometimes help deter people from second guessing them because of their young age.

The long wooden counter a few feet into the building separated the front from the back, where a handful of uniformed cops were leisurely doing various tasks. A young man, barely older than Justin, sat behind the counter, filling out paper work and clearly the one meant to greet visitors.

"US Wildlife Service, we were wanting to speak to the man in charge of the Carlton drowning." His best professional smile back in place, Justin flashes his new badge once more, looking at the young man behind the counter with as much polite authority as he could.

"That'd be Sheriff Devins." He breathes a sigh of relief as the young officer runs back to fetch the man they need, an older man coming forward a few minutes later.

Devins blinks when they ask to see the file, an unsure look passing over his face before turning and inviting them back. "I'm sorry, but I don't see what the US Wildlife Service wants with an accidental drowning."

"Well, we're not sure it is accidental. Will Carlton says he saw something grab his sister."

The older man gives a head shake, leading them back into an office and gesturing for them to take a seat in the dark wooden chairs as he sits on the back. "There's no indigenous carnivores in that lake." Frustration lines his voice, coming through stronger as he goes, a desperation coming in slightly as the sheriff struggles with not having any understandable explanation for the resent drownings. "There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person. Unless it was the loch ness monster." The last was said with sarcasm, but he can see his sister fighting a smirk beside him, knows she thinking of how right the guy could be and is thankful when she gets it under control before Devins' attention is drawn to her. "Will was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks trying to make sense of what we don't want to deal with. Still," he sat heavily in his chair, leaning forward with his arms on his desk. "we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there's nothing down there."

Alex leans forward, playing on the intensity in the man's eyes, his desperation to solve this case that's effected his sleepy little town. "It's weird though. That's the third missing body this year."

"I know." Nodding his head along with her words, eyes moving back and forth between the two, and Justin realizes that he wants them to solve this, he wants them to fix whatever it is. "These are people from my town, people I know, people I care about." He leans back, sagging into his chair like a puppet with his strings cut. "Anyways, all this, it won't be a probably much longer."

"What do you mean?"

He gives them a look, the first thread of real puzzlement directed towards them. "The dam of course."

Alex is quick to recover, leaning back in her chair and looking at her brother who nods along as she says, "Of course. The dam." She turns back to the sheriff, trying to read his face as she searches for the right words. "It's leaking."

"Leaking? It's falling apart. And the feds won't give us the grant money to fix it." It's clear by the passion in his voice that this is a dear issue with Devins and Justin gets the feeling he takes everything in his town to heart, making each issue his own. "They've opened the spill way. In another six months, there won't be much of a like. Won't be much of a town either." He leans forward again, looking between the two siblings. "But as federal wildlife, you already knew that."

"Of course." Justin gives his best reassuring smile, feeling Alex doing the same next to him. They're saved from any further questions by a knock on the door, turning to see a pretty woman with long hair poking her head in.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" The room's occupants stand up as she comes further into view. "I can come back later."

"No, no." Devins made his way around the desk, going over to the young woman's side. "This is my daughter, Andrea Barr." His head turns, indicating to Justin and his sister. "These two are from the US Wildlife Service."

One slender arm comes out to shake hands with each Russo in turn, smiling easily and Justin gets the impression that this is the usual expression her face makes.

"They're here about the lake."

The happy smile flickers, a shadow moving over brown eyes as a small "oh" escapes before a boy moves from behind her, no more than six or seven and with the same damaged look haunting his eyes that he saw flashed in Andrea's. She quickly pastes on a smile, one hand coming down to touch his shoulder lightly.

"And what's your name?" He smiles widely at the boy, but before he can do more than get the words out, he's turned quickly and darted back into the station.

Andrea shoots them an apologetic look before turning and chasing after in a way that screams mother. Justin watches the two a moment as she kneels by his side, handing the still silent child a crayon and rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"His name's Lucas," the sheriff answers, glancing over his shoulder to take the two in before turning back to the siblings.

"Is he ok?" Justin doesn't have a lot of experience with kids outside of his sister and brother, but that doesn't seem like typical child behavior to him.

The sheriff sighs softly, sorrow touching his features lightly. "My grandson's been through a lot. We all have." He pauses, pulling himself together to adopt a more professional manor as he moves to the door. "If there's anything else I can help you with, let me know." He's all polite smiles and genuine courtesy and the Russos walk out, nodding to Andrea on their way out whose watching Lucas draw and making promises of to go to the park later that day.

Max is sitting on the hood of the car when they walk out, sunglasses on and head leaned back like it's eighty degrees outside instead of mid-fifty with a biting wind. "Watdja find out?"

He slides off the car, coming around to the driver's side as Alex opens the door. "Nothing much. Six over a thirty-five year period. Only a couple of bodies were found." He gets in the back seat automatically, sliding across until he's between the two siblings up front. "Not even a lot of missing people. There's a motel two blocks up, around the corner." He gestures in the general direction, leaning back in the seat, legs spread wide in comfort. "Saw it just before I spotted the car."

"So, what? We thinking some kind of lake monster?" She's is looking at Justin when she asks.

He shrugs, uncertainty coloring his features. "If it is, it's picking up it's pace. And it's not leaving any witnesses."

They park in front of the Lake Front Motel, his sister heading inside to get them a room while Justin and Max grab their bags, dragging them over to wait in front of room nineteen.

Justin pulls out his laptop the moment they enter the room, booting it up and opening a fresh internet page. He's not sure what he's looking for, but the urge to look, the desire to find _something _is enough to make him restless. His siblings move around the room, pulling out clothes and separating the weapons into those they'll likely need and those they won't.

"I need some new jeans." Alex is holding up what look like a perfectly fine pair to him, frowning at denim like it holds a great flaw before throwing them on one of the beds, away from the rest of her clothes.

He looks up the drownings Max found, calling his little brother over to help the search go faster. "Whoa," he suddenly calls, a name catching his eye and he waves a hand at Alex to catch her attention. "Christopher Barr." Max looks a little confused at the significance to the name, but Justin reads on figuring they can fill him in later. "The victim in May." He scrolls down, reading quickly knowing he'll lose Alex if he tries to read the article in its entirety. "Andrea's husband. He took their son out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Christopher drowned. He was out there for two hours before they found him." There's a picture with the article, the tiny figure of Lucas next to a rescue worker, eyes holding the same shell-shocked damaged look that they held at the station. He looks up at his sister, catching her eye as she looks thoughtful.

"Looks like we have an eye witness after all." Justin represses a shiver at her words.

They get settled in, occupying themselves for a half an hour before asking Max to show them to the local park. Little brother had made himself familiar with the small town in their absence. Doesn't take them long to find Lucas, the silent boy coloring on a park bench, ignoring the other children around him.

Andrea is sitting nearby, smiling at their approach and Justin smiles back automatically. "Mind if I go say 'hi'?" Alex looks surprised at the question, usually they leave Max to entertain any kids they come across, he connects to their level, his oddness not dissuading them, and he looks at her, silently communicating reassurance as Andrea nods and he walks away.

"Hey," he calls out as he nears the child, Lucas not even looking up at his approach and Justin feels awkward. He's never been super comfortable with kids, relating more to their adult counterparts, but he knows, understands what Lucas went through. He kneels down at the boy's level, noting the army men scattered across the bench and remember when his father brought him home a set. Alex had taken them, spending hours playing war and love, the epic battle of two Ken's for Barbie's affections and their little green minions.

Lucas ignores the little plastic figures as much as he does the children screaming in joy around him, attention focused on the crayon in his hand and paper underneath.

"Can I sit and draw with you?" He doesn't get a response, and Justin slowly pulls a single sheet of white paper from the pile, skipping over the red crayon for the green one and began lightly tracing patterns on the smooth surface. He's no artist, can barely manage a straight line, but he's not sure what else to do.

" I know you can hear me," he begins slowly, gray eyes focused on the movement of his hand, "but you don't want to talk. That's fine, I'm not going to make you." He doesn't look at the boy, watching the lines he's making and frowning when one goes a little off, curving around the wrong way. "I don't know what happened to your dad. But I know it was bad." He pauses, focusing on making a perfect circle while he organizes his words. "When I was about your age, I saw something. Saw my mom-" he chokes off suddenly, he's never spoken the words aloud, never acknowledged them to anyone before and he takes a moment to collect himself, breathing heavily through his nose. "Maybe you don't think anyone will believe you. That they won't listen to you. I just want you to know, that I will. I get it." He looks down to see Lucas still coloring, a black swirl on the page that is steadily getting bigger. "You could even draw me a picture if you don't want to talk." He sets the crayon down, getting up and placing his paper in his seat, the five little stick figures all in a row, a happy family with smiles and Justin feels a small sadness touching him, at what was lost, what could have been, before walking away, turning back in time to see Lucas pick up the picture, staring at it with an unreadable expression.

"-hasn't spoken since it happened. Not even to me." Alex is nodding along, a sympathetic look on her face that Justin thinks is at least eighty-percent fake. Max is staring at the ground, sneaker clad feet kicking lightly at the dirt.

"What do the doctors say?"

"Some kind of post traumatic stress." Her voice betrays her doubt, hands coming up to lay on her lower back as she shakes her head.

"That can't be easy on either of you," he cuts in gently, eyes soft as he looks at the still lightly smiling woman.

"We moved in with my dad. Makes things easier." Her eyes move away, over to her son still sitting on the bench with his crayons. "When I think about what he went through, what he saw." She trails off and the two older siblings exchange looks, both wondering the same thing.

"Children are stronger than we think. You'd be surprised what they can survive."

He's surprised by the boy's approach, tiny figure quietly appearing by his side, paper clutched in his hands. "Hey, sweetie." One slender hand rests on Lucas' shoulder, smiles going up a few watts and Justin can't help but admire her for her effort.

The paper in his hand his suddenly thrust at the older man, Lucas still refusing to look up at him, and Justin takes it without a word, ignoring Andrea's surprise and staring at the brightly drawn house and yard. Alex is by his side, staring over his shoulder within seconds. "He's good," she mutters, glancing over the picture before dismissing it as unimportant.

"Thanks," he says, but Lucas is already wondering back towards the bench, head bent down and taking care to move around the children at play. They make their good-byes quickly after that, heading towards a diner Max saw at some point for a quick bite then heading to bed.

Alex goes for breakfast the next morning, Justin back at the computer, looking for any more leads on the creature in the lake when she comes back, bags of greasy fast food in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other, speaking before he has a chance to greet her. "Ok, so it's not a lake monster." She moves further into the room, tossing a bag to Max whose sprawled on a bed before plopping herself down opposite her older brother, placing the other bag and the tray on the table between them. "Drove by the Carlton house. There was an ambulance. Will Carlton drowned last night. In the sink." She pulls out a styrofoam box, opening it to reveal pancakes that immediately douses in syrup and rolls up like a burrito.

His own eyebrows come together in confusion, pulling the bag between them closer and digging in for his Egg McMuffin. "So, what are we dealing with? Water-wraith? Some kind of demon? It controls water." One hand is already back on the computer, plugging this new information into what they know and trying to make the pieces fit into a picture he recognizes.

"Oh ah leesh uh ach." It takes a second to translate Max's words, his mouth full of hash brown, but Alex's eyes go wide, grinning at Justin as they put it together. The Carlton's home sat on the lake shore, the builders would have made it their primary water source and it would narrow down the search considerably if whatever it is they're looking for could only control the lake.

"Which explains why it's upped the body count." Gray eyes abandon the computer screen to look at his sister, words coming faster as it comes together. "The lake's getting smaller every day. Whatever it is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can go through pipes…How many houses to you think get water from the lake?"

Three sets of eyes widen slightly, all exchanging looks. "One thing's for sure, it's surrounds Bill Carlton," Justin mutters, shutting his laptop and turning back to his meal, lost in his thoughts as he eats his breakfast.

"Did take both his kids," his sister agrees, shoving another pancake into her mouth.

"And Christopher Barr was Bill's godson." He taps his laptop at her questioning look, finishing off his McMuffin and grabbing one of three coffees from the tray.

"We payin' Mr. Carlton a visit?" Max slides from the bed, dumping the wrapper from his meal onto the floor where Justin will have to clean it up later, and grabbing a cup from the holder. Alex nods, mouth still full of pancake, her hands sticky with syrup that he hopes she won't end up wiping on his shirt sleeve.

They sip their drinks, half waiting on their sister to finish her breakfast, half killing time until it's appropriate to visit the family once more.

They pull up mid-morning, automatically going around the side of the cabin to find Bill sitting on the deck once more, staring blankly out at the water.

"Mr. Carlton," Justin calls when they approach, his voice gentle and soothing. "We're with th-"

"I don't care who you're with." His tone is dull, dead, that of a man who has seen too much and it broke him beyond repair. "I've answered too many questions."

"Your son said he saw something in that lake." Alex forges ahead, ignoring his words, but Justin notices that her tone is soft, careful. "Have you ever seen anything out there?" He doesn't answer, staring into the lake like he hasn't heard them. "Mr. Carlton, Sofie's drowning and Will's death, we think these things are connected. Do you or your fam-"

"My children are dead. That's wor-" he chokes off, blinking rapidly as he looks at them, tears suddenly spilling over and onto his cheeks. "That's worse than dying." He looks back at the lake. When he speaks again, his voice wobbles, "Go away. Please." The three of the comply, turning around and walking off the dock and to the car.

"He knows something." He glances over at his sister, sees him staring back towards the lake. It's as he's turning back that something tickles the back of his mind, making him pause and stare at the house.

"He's not the only one." He reaches into his back pocket, pulls out the folded drawing that Lucas handed him, unfolding it and holding it up so that Alex and Max can see.

"Hey, it's the same house," Max exclaims happily, eyes flicking back and forth between the drawing and the building in front of them.

It only takes a quick search for Justin to find out Sheriff Devins' address, making their way quickly over there and knocking at the door. If Andrea is surprised that they know where she lives, she doesn't show it, greeting them with a smile and inviting them in.

"I was wondering if I could speak to Lucas?" Justin tries his best friendly grin, watching as her own falters.

"He won't say anything." Her arms come up to cross over her chest, blinking at him as the first bits of unsurity enters her eyes.

"Just let me speak to him, please. It's important." She nods, leading the three of them up the stairs, Alex having to grab Max's arm to keep him from wondering off into the rest of the house.

They find the silent child sitting on the floor of his room, colorful sheets of paper and crayons surrounding him, intently bent over yellow sheet of construction paper. Justin kneels down before him, absently leafing throw the papers, noticing the same red bike that Lucas had drawn at the park on three more sheets of paper.

"Hey, buddy, remember me?" He doesn't get a response, not that he expects one. "I wanted to say thank you for that last drawing. So, uh thank you and…um.."

He looks to Alex and Max, both standing in the door way Andrea, unsure of where to go next. His sister gives him a "don't look at me" stare, hands coming up in an lost gesture, but Max steps forward. "We need your help." Justin shoots him a thankful look, pulling out the picture, setting before Lucas. "It's ok to be scared." And he wonders how Max knew to say that, he's never seen his little afraid, no matter the monster they face.

"Everyone gets afraid," Justin's voice is low, gentle, watching the still coloring boy for any sign that he hears him. "When I was a little younger than you," he pauses, licks his lips as tries to form the words, "I saw something happen to my mom." He feels Alex freeze behind him, hears her stop breathing for a moment before he continues. "And it scared me. I didn't feel like talking. Didn't want to, like you. But you see my mom, I knew she wanted me to be brave. And maybe your dad, maybe he wants you to be brave too." Black crayon drops from Lucas' hand, his face slowly raising to meet his eyes. He moves with precision, pulling a picture out from under the others, handing it over to Justin without a word and behind him Andrea gasps.

It's another drawing of a house, this one more detailed, white church to the side and a boy out front by a wooden fence, red bike next to him.

"What are you thinking?" They're back in the car, Alex driving and Max in the backseat.

"I don't know. I mean there's cases, of traumatic events allowing children to temporarily being able to tune into spirits and energies around them."

"So you think whatever's out there that the kid is tapping into it somehow?"

Justin shrugs, it's unlikely, but they don't have a better lead. "Whatever it is, someone else is going to drown." He holds up the picture. "And we need to find this house."

**A/N: I don't know how long it takes them to get to the towns they're going too, I'm guessing. Which is harder when I don't know where they're coming from, lol.**

**Yeah, so I finally added the jacket, wasn't going too, but then decided 'why not?'**

**I'm realizing that most of the victims/people the Winchesters deal with don't have last names. I'm making them up as I go along, hopefully I don't repeat one.**


	7. There Are Consequences

Dead In the Water (There Are Consequences)

There's about a thousand yellow two story homes in this town, but Justin points out there's less than a handful of white old fashion churches. Max knows nothing, his walk around town not leading him deeply into the actual neighborhoods and Alex curses silently, hating the idea of wondering around town.

She wants to bring up Mom, bring up Justin having to witness her death, and then Juliet's, but now's not the time. Plus, he might cry and then she'd have to pull over and hold him and there's something out there killing people that she'd much rather be hunting.

It takes them two hours to find the church, and Alex is a little cranky by the time they do, snapping at Max when he points at it and says something about it not being Sunday. The house is across the street, off to the side and the three siblings make their way over without a word.

Justin has his badge ready when the door opens, revealing an old woman in a thick yellow cotton dress that nearly reaches the floor. "We're sorry to bother you, ma'am, but does a little boy happen to live here by any chance?" She looks startled at his words, not even glancing at the badge. "Maybe rides a red bicycle and wears a blue ball cap."

"No, sir." She looks away, old sorrow coloring her features before looking back at Justin completely ignoring the other two on her porch. "Not for a very long time." She gestures them inside. It's musty, dark with old furniture and little dishes with stale candies in them that Max makes a bee line for.

Once they're seated the woman continues, a long sitting sadness in her voice."Peter's been gone thirty-five years now." She heaves a sigh, eyes going to the picture sitting on an end table. "The police never-_I_ never had any idea of what happened." She looks back at them, a sort of extensive buried desperation hidden in her eyes. "He just disappeared. Losing him, it's," she takes a breath, trying to compose herself, "it's worse than dying."

"Did he disappear from here? From this house?" They need to know, but doesn't stop Alex from flinching slightly at being the one to ask, to have to break the woman from her moment of grief.

She shakes her head, white curls moving around her head softly. "He was supposed to ride his bike straight home. After school. He never showed up."

"Can we see his room?" She doesn't seemed surprised Justin asked, silently getting up and leading them up the stairs and down the hall, and Alex realizes that she doesn't care, that when her son went missing something died inside the woman, broke her beyond repair. She sees the picture first, tucked into the corner of a mirror on the desk and she pulls it out, two little boys with their arms around each other, and recognition tickling her at the site of the blonde haired child in it.

She turns it over, reading the description on the back aloud. "Peter Sweeny and Billy Carlton. 1970." She glances back at her brothers, poking through a stack of baseball cards sitting on the night stand and thinks of pocketing a few, they could pawn them a couple towns over, make some quick cash, but Justin shoots her a look, like he knows what he's thinking and she waits until his back is turned before snatching a quick handful, shoving them in her back pocket as they walk out.

"Thanks so much, for everything." Her big brother is all smiles, but Mrs. Sweeny barely hears him, lost in her past grief, walking them to the door mechanically.

They're on their way to Carlton's once more, the little neighborhood disappearing in their review mirror. "So Peter goes missing and Bill is somehow connected?"

"And Bill's loved ones are being punished? That's not fair." Alex frowns, eyes not leaving the road as her brother rambles on.

"What if Bill did something to Peter? Killed him or something, then his spirit would be furious, wanting revenge."

"But going after his family? That's harsh." It's not uncommon for spirits to go after who hurt them, or those that represent them, but something twists in her gut at the thought of Peter targeting Bill's family, like he went one level too far.

They pull up the cabin for the second time that day, automatically going around back. They pause when they see that Bill's in a boat, out on the water instead of on his usual spot sitting on the bench on the dock.

All three take off at a dead run, calling out to him, yelling for him to come back as the head down the dock, but Bill only turns once, at the sound of their voice before looking forward once more, ignoring their calls.

There's a surge in the water, an unexpected wave forming, much too large for the small lake, heading towards the little boat and Alex feels herself yell louder, knowing they're much too late, that even if Bill chose that exact moment to turn around he'd never make it back in time. The three watch helplessly as the boat is hit, flipping suddenly, it's passenger disappearing beneath the surface without a word.

Her view is blocked, little brother walking forward, sneakers touching the edge of the wooden dock as he stares out at the spot Bill went under. She has the sudden image of Peter Sweeny's hand, coming up from the water and grabbing Max's foot, dragging him under and her heart pounds wildly. Justin's hand darts out, snatching back their little brother from the edge and pulling him closer to them and Alex relaxes.

Sheriff Devins is the one to answer their call, coming quickly with the EMTs and the town's coroner. They give their statements, telling of the wave and the flipping of the boat but leaving out Peter and their theory and agree to follow him back to the station to fill out an official report.

It's only on the way back that they realize he didn't mention Max, didn't ask questions or make a comment. They debate leaving him in the car when they pull up to the building, but their little brother either doesn't hear them weighing the pros and cons are has decided he doesn't care and gets out, making his way into the sheriff's station before Alex is even out of the car.

Andrea's waiting inside, Lucas by her side with a sack lunch. "I brought you some dinner when I heard about Bill. Is there…" she pauses, glancing back at her son who seems unusually fidgety, "something going on with the lake?"

Mr. Devins looks at her for moment, eyes sad before glancing back at the three siblings behind him. "Why don't you take Lucas home."

Before the young woman can respond, the boy is out of his chair, hands clinging to Justin's arm and staring up at him with panic. Andrea is by his side within moments, pulling gently, trying to extract the child. "Hey, hey, it's ok," Justin mutters, getting down to the boy's level and talking in low soothing tones that she can't completely make out.

_That's not right, _she thinks. It should have been over with Bill's death, Peter having gotten his revenge and moved on, but Lucas watches her brother with fear filled eyes even as Andrea gently drags him from the building and Alex feels something in her stomach twist with worry.

She has to elbow Justin in the arm to get his attention, eyes still focused on the door the quiet boy disappeared through, the three siblings turning to follow an irritated sheriff into his office. He slumps into the chair behind his desk, hands coming up to rub over graying hair as he hides his face from the world.

"I don't know what happened," he starts, his voice muffled behind his hand for a moment before he drops them onto his desk, "but I know you're not with the US Wildlife." he adds "I checked," when she opens her mouth to protest, "and I don't care. His neighbor confirmed your story and beyond that, I don't want to know why you're here. Stay out of the way." With that they're dismissed, the two younger Russos vacating the chairs opposite the desk and following their older brother out the door.

They start packing when they get back to the hotel, job complete. Justin's unusually quiet, stopping every few minutes to glance at the two drawings he placed on the little wooden table by the window, studying them for a second before going back to putting together his clothes, and Alex can't blame him.

It doesn't feel finished, as silly as that sounds, but she grew up learning to rely on her instincts, go with her gut and right now she feels like there's more here. "Should we be leaving yet?"

He looks up, eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before glancing back over to the papers. "Yes," but he doesn't sound certain. He frowns, eyebrows coming together as he tries to work out whatever problem is in his head. "I..I'm not sure. Why did Lucas react like that? If Peter was gone now, his revenge satisfied, then he wouldn't be bothering Lucas anymore. But he was freaked out, something scared him." They look at each other, neither quiet knowing the answer.

"Maybe he's _not_ satisfied." Max is coming out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand that Alex wouldn't think he used except he's never had a cavity.

"But why wouldn't he be?" They're both looking at their little brother, waiting for an explanation as to why he thinks Peter's unsatisfied and not really expecting a clear one, but he just shrugs, tossing the toothbrush into the air and catching it.

"I think we should check on him." She's surprised the words come from her, but she feels better at the idea. _There's no harm in checking. _

Justin agrees without a fight, grabbing the keys and a jacket as the three head out the door. The sun is setting when they get to the little gray house, pulling into the driveway, Alex breathing a sigh of relief that Mr. Devins car is not there. Working late, she'd guess. The lights are all out and she wonders if they've gone to bed, but Justin's already ringing the door bell, shoulders tense.

There's a sound of running, feet pounding heavily on a hard floor and then Lucas answers, breathing hard and eyes wide, not pausing a second before grabbing Justin's hand and running up the stairs, Alex and Max right at their heels.

There's water coming down the steps, making the wooden floor slippery and soaking rug at the top, and the small boy makes a bee line for the bathroom, fists pounding on the door before Justin pulls him back, Max ramming his shoulder into the wood without pause, the momentum, carrying him forward and into the room as the frame splinters, Alex just a step behind. The tub is full of dark muddy water, overflowing onto the floor and the two siblings shove their hands in, water coming up past their elbows, grasping at the body they can feel under the surface. It's harder than it should be, pulling Andrea out, the feel of something strong trying to pull her back under as they fight against it. She comes free, all three falling onto the tiled floor in a mass of bodies.

Andrea's breathing hard, great chocking gasps that has her coughing up lake water, Alex and Max panting beside her with the effort as Justin stands in the hall, Lucas clutched to his side staring at his mother before he darts forward, thin arms coming around her neck and Alex realizes he's crying, Andrea's arms coming around him and pulling him close.

Nobody speaks, her older brother going down the hall to find the naked woman something to wear, the remaining Russos helping Andrea and Lucas out of the bathroom just as Justin comes back with a gray robe and flannel pajamas. She puts them on without a word, the two boys turning their backs in an act of privacy that Alex is pretty sure Andrea doesn't care about at that moment, too caught up in her near death to be bothered with modesty.

"Why don't we…" Justin gestures to the stairs when the young woman is dressed and she nodes, picking up Lucas and following Alex down the steps and into the living room, the two curling on the couch while Alex takes a chair.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" The words feel awkward on her tongue and she breathes a sigh of relief with Andrea shakes her head. Justin touches her arm lightly and Alex gets up to follow him to the other side of the room.

"Why don't you and Max see what you can find out, see if someone here is somehow connected to Peter. I'll stay with them?" He indicates towards the couch with his head, Alex nodding as she turns, signaling to her little brother to follow.

They head to the basement, looking for old boxes filled with stuff from people's childhood, mementos and papers, flipping through them with careful eyes.

"Ugg, this is taking forever." A glance at her cell phone indicates it's been just under an hour. Max is by a rusty bookshelf, picking up what looks like old yearbooks one at a time, glancing at the covers before putting them back.

There's a shrug of shoulders as he turns to glance at her over his shoulder. "It's too bad we don't have a giant magnet."

She pauses, debating, before giving in, letting her curiosity get the better of her. "Why?"

"Because then whatever we needed would just come to the magnet." His arms come out from his side, a smile on his face that says he has it all figured out.

Her head tilts to the side, a short curtain of dark hair that won't stay behind her ear falling down beside her cheek. "That'd only work if what we needed was metal."

"Now you're thinking." He points at her, arm outstretched as he nods his head, body angled away so he's looking over his shoulder at her with a half grin before turning back to the shelf, pulling another book from the line. "'Jake-age twelve,'" he reads and Alex perks up, standing from where she was sitting cross legged in front of a box marked "Andrea" and going to stand next to her brother, glancing over his shoulder as he opens the photo album. The pictures are yellowed with age, stuck in neat rows under a shiny film.

One hand comes out to stop the flipping of pages as a familiar face appears. _Peter. _She stares at photo of the young boy sandwiched between a young Billy Carlton and another child, probably Jake, all three with their arms around each other, smiling. Snatching the album out of Max's hands she darts upstairs, walking briskly into the living room and placing the album before Andrea, Max just a few steps behind. "Do you know them?" She presses her finger to the photo, staring at the woman as she glances over them.

"That's my dad." A slender hand comes out, lightly touching the previously unknown boy before moving on to the blond on the other side of Peter. "And that's Bill Carlton, but," he eyes furrow slightly as she settles on the middle child. "I don't know who that is." She meets Justin's eyes over Andrea's head the significance weighing in.

"It's not just Bill," he breathes, glancing back at the photo. Confusion clouds his features, looking at Alex. "Then why Christopher? Because he's Bill's godson, or because he was Sheriff Devins' son-in-law?"

"Does it matter?"

Andrea's glancing back and forth between them, eyes wide and hands in her lap, and Alex realizes that Lucas isn't with her. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

Before she can answer the back door opens, Jake Devins coming through, eyes landing on them immediately.

"What's going on here?" His face looks angry, even in its confusion, coming further into the room and Alex's eyes are drawn to where his hand is resting on the gun holster, fingers lightly flicking the snap to allow his weapon easier draw.

He glances at the photo album, eyes landing on the three boys in the pictures before snapping back at them.

"What happened, Jake? You and Bill kill Peter?" Her voice is even, her brother rising lightly off the couch, feet planted apart for easy mobility. "Drown him in the lake?" She feels Max shifting at her back, tensing in case things go bad, Devins hand hasn't left the gun by his side.

"Dad?" Andrea's eyes are questioning, and she stands too quickly, the hand on the pistol tightening and Alex tenses, shifting her weight forward as she prepares to move, but his eyes only jerk to his daughter. "What's going on?" Her voice is desperate, caught up in something that can't control, that she didn't even know existed.

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeny thirty-five years ago." Justin's just as much answering Andrea's question as he is speaking to her father, gray eyes not leaving the armed man. They could take him, possibly get to him before he draws his weapon, but it's a gamble. "And now you've got an angry spirit that's trying to take the people you love from you." She risks glancing at her brother, watching his fingers twitch lightly for a weapon she herself is craving. "It's going to drown them, so that you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt." Leave it to her dork of a brother to figure it out, to pop that last piece into place. "And then, after you felt what it's like to outlive your children, it'll take you. It won't stop."

"Listen to you, you're insane. Both of you." He stares at Justin as she steps closer to Andrea, a protective gesture. "I think you need to get out of my house. Leave town."

"Not until we finish the job." His attention swings back to her. "We need to find the remains, salt and burn them." Brown eyes widen as his look. "Please tell me you buried him, that you didn't just let him go in the lake."

"Dad? Is it true?" Andrea's voice is soft, imploring as she looks to her father. "Did you..." She doesn't finish, just stares at the man before her.

"No, I di-" his eyes soften as he looks at her, face filling with shame. "It was an accident. We didn't mean to. It was just a game. We held his head under the water, but- he stopped moving and-" He blinks rapidly, years of guilt fighting to come to the surface. "We just…let him go." He looks at Alex, sorrow filling his gaze.

"Shit." She turns away, hands going into her back pockets. Without a body there's no way to put the spirit to rest. The back door slams as she turns to Justin, ready to tell him to help the family pack so they can get the hell away from the lake.

Five sets of eyes look back startled, Andrea's "Lucas?" the only sound before they're all moving, rushing out the door and towards the spot where the small figure can be seen walking away from the house. A few feet and Alex can see the shore to the lake, realization coming as they run towards the boy, seeing the familiar wooden cabin across the water that had once housed the Carltons.

There's a dock, similar to the one Bill spent his last days on, jutting out into the lake, Lucas at the end staring into the water, head cocked to the side like he's trying to listen.

Andrea is shouting her sons name, long legs running as she tries to call the boy back. Alex's own heart is pounding in her chest as she sprints towards the wooden pier, Justin in front of her, when she sees Lucas reach down, slowly lowering his hand towards the dark surface. The small body gives a jerk as it goes in, like something pulls him forward and Andrea screams as he disappears in a thrash of limbs below the surface.

Her brother doesn't pause when he gets to the dock, sneaker clad feet pounding against the wood before he dives off the end, head first into the water. Alex has to grab Andrea to keep her from following after. "He wants you," she hisses into the frightened woman's ear. "Don't make it so easy for him."

"Oh, God. Lucas." She doesn't answer that, knowing it won't help to mention that Peter wants her son as well, wants to inflict as much pain on Jake as he can. Max comes up on Andrea's other side, long arms coming up to wrap around the young woman, keeping her back and Alex shoots him a thankful look. Andrea's taller than she is, and whereas Alex has had training on dealing with things much larger and stronger than herself, the woman's slender figure seemed determined to wiggle from her grasp.

Justin surfaces, grasping in great lungfuls of air before diving back in.

"Peter." She glances away from the spot her brother went under in time to see Sheriff Devins entering the water, his jacket abandoned on the shore. "Peter, if you can hear me, I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. Don't take-Please, Peter."

"Daddy, no." The body wiggling between her and Max stills, seeming unsure of what to do as she glances back and forth between the spot her son went under and where her father is working his way deeper into the lake.

"Take me. Let it be over. Take me, please." The waters lapping at his chest, darkening the pale blue of his uniform to a much darker shade and then he's sinking, eyes widening as he's pulled below the surface. He doesn't fight it, just lets Peter take him as Andrea screams in Alex's arms.

There's a splash and they all turn to see Justin surfacing, Lucas coughing in his arms. They struggle their way to the dock, and Alex lets go of the now sobbing Andrea as her and Max help pull the boy and then their brother out. The woman clings to her son, pushing him back to look at his face before pulling him closer as he gasps, coughing up dirty water and shuddering.

Justin sits heavily on the pier, clothes soaked through and one shoe missing, his shirt is probably ruined, the light gray streaked with mud and Alex flicks water from his ear as he starts to get up.

Andrea tells them she'll talk to the police, and Alex nods gratefully, forcing Justin to strip before he can get the in the car. She's not having the inside smell like lake water. He grabs a spare shirt from the back, one of Max's that's in a questionable stage of cleanliness, putting his wet clothes into a plastic bag that Alex snags from the house. She wants to ask for a pair of sweats, but Justin stops her, "Let them mourn." She rolls her eyes, commenting that it's his ass that's going to be stuck in nothing but a t-shirt and wet boxers.

"You know, we can't save everybody." She keeps her voice low, eyes on the road before sparing a glance to her silent brother.

"I know." He keeps his face to the window, eyes staring at the trees and houses as they make their way back to the hotel. This was always the hardest part for Justin, the people, his determination to save every one of them and the failure he feels when he inevitably can't.

"I don't think you do." She looks at the review mirror, at Max sitting in the back, eyes trained on Justin like he's a puzzle Max is just starting to figure out. Justin doesn't respond and Alex turns on the radio, low back ground noise as they drive back to the hotel.

Justin heads straight for the shower when they get inside, the other two finishing the packing job they started earlier. He comes out hair wet and ready for bed ten minutes later. It's only a few hours until dawn, but driving now is not an option.

Morning comes way too soon, Justin's cell phone alarm waking her and she thinks that it's a good thing he placed it out of breaking distance. Doesn't take them long to gather the bags they'd packed the night before, grabbing the few items strewn around the room and brushing their teeth quickly before heading out to the car. She'll need coffee once they're on the road.

"Leaving already?" She looks over to see Andrea, hair limp and clothes comfy, Lucas by her side standing there, a couple of plastic tupperwear containers in her hands. "We wanted to say good bye," she says awkwardly. "And thanks." There's dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, but the look of gratitude as she touches her son's shoulder is geniun and Alex finds herself nodding, a small smiles tugging her lips.

She glances over at Justin, noting the soft eyes as he stares at the boy, wondering what he's thinking. She could guess, and she'd bet money that she'd be close, but it's not often that she doesn't know exactly what's going through her older brother's head.

"We made you lunch. For the road." She steps forward, thrusting the containers into Alex's arms. Alex blinks, smiling lightly, debating on handing a few to Max, but he'd eat them before they got on the road. "I guess they could be breakfast, if you wanted." Andrea's brows come together in thought, glancing at the containers before looking back at the siblings.

Justin opens his mouth, shuts it as he looks down, arms coming up to cross his chest before looking back. "I'm sorry." He says it simply, the guilt in his voice making Alex's palms itch to smack the back of head, tell him how stupid he's being.

Andrea flinches eyes closing before holding up a hand. "Don't." She takes a breath. "You saved my son." Wide eyes open, looking at Justin with as much gratitude as pain, but there's no blame there. "You did more than you had to, more than anyone could. My father loved me, loved Lucas, but he made a mistake. And he paid for it. That's his fault, not yours." There's too many emotions flickering over the woman's face, it'll take time for her to sort them all out. Justin studies her for a moment before nodding.

"Did you help make these?" Max directs the question at Lucas as he snags a container from Alex's arms before she can stop him.

"Yes." The voice is small, soft but three sets of eyes glance down at the boy, his mother smiling proudly by his side. "I made the sandwiches."

"He started after…with the lake." Her voice barely wavers, her brave smile staying on as she looks at her son and Justin's grinning beside her, reaching out to rustle his hair.

Alex moves back a couple of steps, turning to put the food in the passenger's seat. "We gotta hit the road." Andrea nods, smiling softly at them as they crawl into the car, her and Lucas lifting their hands to wave good bye as they pull out onto the road.

**A/N: For those SPN fans that remember this episode, I didn't like the ending it had, where Andrea and Lucas where all normal and bubbly after Jake died, so I made them damaged, Andrea still in mourning and Lucas not completely over the ordeal but getting better instead of his happy "Zeppelin rules" grinning self.**

**I have come to the conclusion that I'm going to have to mess with the order just a touch, not a lot but if I want to Jalex to stay on the time line I have set up for it, then I'm going to have to take one of the season two episodes and shove it into season one. Not sure where yet, but for those of you fans of the show, sorry if it confuses you and those not, hope it doesn't confuse you and flows ok.**

**Reviews=Love**


	8. If We Were Meant To Fly

Phantom Traveler (If We Were Meant To Fly)

Justin smiles as he hands the guy his card, fake name on the plastic, and gives Max his coffee, taking a sip of his own as the teen behind the counter runs the credit card. He's still not sleeping well, nightmares of fire, his mother and Juliet's faces flickering within, cutting his sleep short.

Sliding the piece of plastic in his wallet and putting his coffee in the tray, he grabs the paper bag off the counter, and the brothers make their way out of the convenience store. They get in the Impala, freshly washed and gleaming, Max sliding into the passenger seat, and Justin winces as the hot liquid inside the cup sloshes slightly, debates making his brother put the cup into a cup holder.

There's no job in this town. They haven't had a hunt since the drownings in Lake Manitoc, but it's been just over a week, so Alex hasn't gotten too antsy yet.

The three of them stopped into a small town outside of Wisconsin to wash clothes and restock on supplies. Justin's jeans were ruined. Several runs through the machine, and they still smelled like lake water, and Alex had been more than a little happy to stop him from throwing them in a dumpster, taking them out to the back of the motel they were staying at and burning them with a match and a little lighter fluid. The manager had yelled, kicking them out with threats of calling the cops, but Alex had laughed the whole ride out of town, and Justin couldn't bring himself to complain too much; they were going to be tossed anyway.

He pulls into the parking space in front of their room door, his sister no doubt still asleep inside. He snatches the bag of doughnuts and pockets the keys, pulling the one for the room from his back pocket, handing it to Max to unlock the door.

Alex is curled under the blankets, a few black strands of hair sticking out from the top, one hand tucked under the pillow beneath her head.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." Justin kicks the end of the bed, inciting a muffled groan and curse, and his sister's head pops out of the cocoon of blankets she's made.

"What time is it?" She rolls onto her back, voice thick with sleep as she peers at him.

"Around seven."

She lets out another groan, throwing the covers back and sitting up as one hand reaches out for the coffee she knows he got her.

He hands her the cup, noting that her nightshirt, one of his from before he left for college, is too big for her small frame. He sits on the edge of the bed, placing the white paper bag between them. Pulling out a doughnut and handing it to Max perched on the other bed, Justin fishes for the knife he keeps under his pillow at night, a habit he'd had fallen out of at Stanford. He grabs his own pastry after Alex snags one for herself, taking a bite and trying not to wince at the overly sugary concoction. Should have gotten a few plain ones for himself.

Alex's ringing cell phone interrupts their breakfast, and she takes a swig of her coffee before answering.

Justin can't hear the other end of the conversation, but his sister's faces twists in confusion.

"Who?" She pauses as she waits for the answer, the confusion clearing away as understanding creeps in. "Right, the guy with the poltergeist. In," she waves the hand holding her doughnut in the air, "that town with the C-name. It's not back, is it?"

She listens a few more minutes, rolling her eyes and interrupting, "Do you know what it is?" before nodding her head. "Fine, we'll be there."

The phone shuts with a click before Alex looks at her brothers. "We're going to Pennsylvania."

"What is it?" Justin's already up off the bed, grabbing his duffle with one hand and setting his clothes inside in neat piles to insure they don't wrinkle, quickly finishing his pastry with the other.

"He didn't say. Wants to talk in person." She goes to toss the phone on the night stand, eyes noticing the clock and suddenly turning to glare at her older brother. "It's not even six thirty yet!"

She grabs a change of clothes, ignoring Justin's triumphant smirk, and heads to the bathroom, pulling the door almost closed as she gets dressed. Max moves around the room to make sure they don't leave anything behind. When they settle for more than a few days, things have a tendency to spread.

Unease courses through Justin, the thought that this could be nothing tickling the back of his mind. It wouldn't be the first time some hook up of his sister's called to see if she wanted to swing by, but she always turned them down, keeping it short and sweet so as not to lose the connection in case she needed a favor later on. The guy could have gotten smart though, made up a case in hopes of drawing her back to town, and the thought makes him uncomfortable.

She comes out a few minutes later, hair brushed and smoothed around her face, tossing her bathroom bag into the duffle containing her stuff, rolling her eyes at her brother's careful folding of her clothes.

It's not a long car ride, just seven and half hours with Alex brushing over the details of the case on the ride over, a poltergeist in the Pennowsky's home that she, Dad and Max took care of. Then they're pulling onto the exit for Catanic, Pennsylvania, Alex weaving her way through the city until they're parked at an air strip.

"John works here." She gets out, walking into the building like she owns the place, ignoring the other workers as she heads towards the back.

John, a middle aged balding man, meets them half way, and Justin feels a touch of relief go through him that he's not one of Alex's exes, that this is a real case. He takes Alex's hand, pumping it enthusiastically a few times before letting go.

"I really should be doing you a favor after you helped me with that," his voice drops down low, "that thing."

He takes a step back, turning to lead them further into the warehouse-like structure, maneuvering around metal cylinders and plane parts. "I really can't thank you enough for coming. Your dad and you saved my life."

They side step a man rushing towards them, letting him go around as he mutters under his breath about the wrong order.

"He said you were off at college, that right?" John smiles at Justin, a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I was." He struggles with the words for a second, debating how much he wants to share. "I'm taking some time off."

"Well, he was proud of you. Talked about you all the time."

"He did?" The question is out before he has the chance to rethink it.

He and Dad had never really gotten along, and Jerry had been downright set against the idea of Justin leaving for school, claiming it was a waste of time and money and yelling at him about the importance of family.

"Oh, hey." The man turns to Alex, who's got a little wistful smile on her face. "How's he doing? I tried to call him, but I couldn't get in touch with him."

The siblings exchange significant glances, both shooting "keep quiet" looks to Max who seems too preoccupied with staring at the various airplanes around them to pay attention to the conversation.

"Caught up in a job," Alex lies easily, grinning lightly as she grabs their little brother's arm, hauling him away from the direction he started wandering toward.

John nods, heading toward an office Justin can see up ahead. "There's something you need to hear."

They pile into the small space, papers scattered everywhere and an old coffee sitting on the desk, dark ring around the bottom where the drink has dried.

"Normally I wouldn't have access to this." He's popping a CD into the drive on the computer, indicating for someone to shut the door. "It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

He looks at them like that has some kind of special meaning, and Justin notices that Alex has a sympathetic look on her face, completely fake, but Justin adopts the same. John nods his head, clicking the mouse a few times.

The message is broken, only a few words able to come through the static filled recording.

_"Mayday, mayday….tec-24-5…immediate in-…help w-…experiencing….nical failure."_

The voices end abruptly, a high growling coming through the speakers before it whines out and stops, going silent.

"It took off from here, picked up passengers and then crashed some two hundred miles from here. The official report is mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized, no one knows why."

John stares at them like they can fix this, eyes wide with desperation and hope.

"Over a hundred people on board. Seven got out alive. The pilot was one." The slightest bit of relief enters his voice, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he looks down. "His name is Chuck, he's a good friend of mine." He glances back up, face sad. "He's pretty broken up about it. He thinks it's his fault, and I don't know how to tell him it's not."

"Ok." Justin sits up a little straighter, mind already processing the information. "We'll need to see passenger manifests, the list of survivors and access to the wreckage."

"The other two I can get you, but the wreckage, that's all locked up in an evidence warehouse. I don't have that kind of clearance."

Alex grins, all smugness and playful joy.

"Don't worry about it, we got it." She turns to Justin, grin going up a few notches. "Looks like you get to use that new suit."

It takes his sister nearly thirty minutes at Copy Jack's and another twenty back at the motel room they've rented to complete three shiny new laminated ID badges, handing Justin's to him when she's finally finished.

"Homeland Security?" His eyes widen, staring at his proudly grinning sister with a kind of shocked disbelief. "That's kind of... up there. Even for us." FBI was as high as they usually went when it came to impersonating government officials. "And you made Max one? He can barely pass for a street cop half the time."

He carefully avoids mentioning that their little brother could pass for being older than her.

"He'll need it eventually." She rolls her eyes, already pulling the Federal Bureau of Investigation ID from its leather sleeve and putting the Homeland Security one in its place. "Pictures are much easier to replace. Besides, it'll do in a pinch. What'd you find?"

She's looking over at him sitting on the bed with the laptop on his legs, and he lets it go, lets her change the subject.

"There's definitely EVP on the voice recorder." He hits a few buttons, muting out the background noise as best he can. "Check it out."

A low hissing voice comes over the speakers, harsh and rough like it's been screaming for hours and is finally going out.

"_Noo ssurrvivoorrsss."_

"Nosurvivors?" His sisters eyebrows are drawn together in thought, staring at the computer like it'll magically give her the answers. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven of them."

"No idea." Justin shuts the laptop, putting if off to the side as they brain storm. "What do you think? Angry spirit? There's a lot of lore about death omens and such being on modes of travel. In fact, one was thought have been aboard the Titanic when-"

"Ok, enough of the boring history lesson." She holds up a hand, unaffected at his irritated glare. "It could be any of those things. The question is how do we stop it from happening again?"

"Not sure." Long fingers snatch up a slip of paper from the bedside table. "But I've been looking up each of the survivors."

Alex moves closer, setting herself next to Justin with her back against the head board as Max walks out of the bathroom.

"This guy," he points to the third name down, "is in a mental hospital now. Checked himself in a few days after the accident."

If he'd been expecting any comment from Max, it would not have been, "Aww man. We're going to one of those?" He makes a face of disgust, and Justin looks at him in surprise, unsure how to respond to his little brother's unusual reaction.

Alex leans close, her breath brushing his ear in a hot little puffs as she whispers, "We had a case involving a psychiatrist. He wanted to keep Max overnight for observation. He was pretty insistent."

They share a look, his sister's face expressing exactly how much she disliked the idea. He knows better than to ask if the doctor got his way, knowing Alex would never have allowed it; they're both fairly protective of their baby brother and each other.

"You can stay here," he suggests, but Max shakes his head, easy smile spreading across his face as he goes for the cheap suit Justin insists on keeping in his bag, folded as neatly as possible to avoid wrinkling.

It's as Justin's wrestling with his brother's hair, trying to get the too-long strands into a style that would allow him to pass for a young looking early twenty-something, that Alex informs them that she's not going with them.

"I'm going to look into the remains. Remember Flight 401? How they recycled parts after it crashed only for the pilot and co-pilot to haunt each plane that got a piece?"

Justin nods, having to crane his neck around his brother's head in order to see her and wonders absently if Max is going through another growth spurt.

"Figure it's worth looking into."

She's already shoving her wallet and phone into her back pockets, grabbing a long sleeve sweater to throw over the t-shirt she has on before picking up her leather jacket.

"I'll meet you back here in a couple hours." She holds up the Impala keys, dangling them to be sure that he sees before carefully tossing them onto one of the beds.

They exchange _see ya_'s and _later_'s as she walks out, and as Justin brushes the last strand of max's hair into place, he wonders if he should hair spray it down before deciding it's not worth the snippy comments from Alex for going through her stuff.

A quick Google search gives them directions to the hospital, Justin checking to make sure he has the hotel key before closing the door and sliding into the driver's seat. Max gets in the other side, and Justin notes the small gap at his ankles when he sits.

_Definitely a growth spurt, _and he feels a touch of annoyance that his baby brother is going to be as tall, if not taller, than him.

The hospital has surprisingly little security. The brothers are let in after barely a glance at their badges, being pointed to the courtyard out back where a young man is sitting on a bench, cane resting by his side.

"Matt Jaffey?"

The man looks up, slightly surprised to see the two of them standing before him.

"Yes?"

"We're with Homeland Security," Justin flashes the badge once more, keeping his face professional, Max by his side doing the same. "We wanted to ask you few questions about Flight 2485, if that's ok."

He blinks a few times at the badge before answering. "Um, ok, but I already spoke to Homeland Security."

The Russo hides his surprise, cutting his eyes at Max before responding. "We just have a few follow up questions."

He gives a grin, friendly and practiced, and Matt nods, gesturing to the wooden bench across from him. The brothers take a seat, Justin resting his forearms on his knees as he leans towards the young man slightly.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual?" he begins, gray eyes focused on the young man.

Matt shifts in his seat slightly, attention on his hands. "Like what?"

"Strange lights? Smells? Maybe noises or voices?"

His eyes dart up, looking at Justin for a moment before he drops them again. "No. Nothing."

"You sure? Anything at all would help."

"No, no. I was delusional. The plane was going down, I was seeing things." He's back to looking between brothers, voice coming out like he's trying to convince himself as much as them.

"What did you see? 'Cause you know, it might have been real. I remember one time-"

"Doesn't matter," Justin cuts off his little brother's speech before it has a chance to snowball, giving him a look. "Just tell us what you thought you saw. Sometimes the mind can play tricks on you, change one thing into something else, so even if it doesn't make sense, it might help."

Matt is shifting in his seat again, eyes glancing at Justin before looking away, taking a few moments to gather himself together.

"There was-" He lets out a breath, little puff of air through his nose, arms coming up to cross over his chest. "-this man. And he, uh, had these eyes." One hand frees itself from the other, fingers twitching next to his temple. "These, uh, black eyes."

He looks at Justin suddenly, like he's waiting for the rebuke, to be told he's wrong.

"Completely black. And I saw him- I _thought _I saw," he corrects quickly, looking away once more. "He _opened_ the emergency exit." He looks to Max, shaking his head at his words. "But that's impossible. I looked it up, there's almost two tons of pressure on that door."

"Did the man flicker? Appear and reappear out of nowhere?"

Matt gives him a look, like Justin just asked if the sky was really orange.

"No. He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

He and Max exchange looks before telling Matt good-bye, shaking his hand with a quick, "Thanks for your time," and getting up.

"Not a spirit then." They make their way to the car, Justin already fishing the keys from his pants pocket.

"Sounds like demon possession to me."

Justin glances up at Max, slightly startled that he hadn't thought of that yet as he gets in on the driver's side.

"Could be. Black eyes, inhuman strength. But why would a demon want to crash a plane?"

His little brother shrugs, opening the passenger door and getting in. "Maybe it doesn't like flying."

He starts the car, pulling out the passenger list and checking the seat directly in front of Matt's for a name. George Anderson, not one of the survivors. He pulls out his cell phone and holds down the little number two button for a few seconds until the words "Calling… Alex" appear on the screen.

"So the remains were a total bust," his sister answers, sans greeting. "Not a single piece was from a different plane, not even a freakin' knob from the cockpit." He can hear someone shushing in the background, trying to quiet the girl down. "But I did find some weird residue on the handle of emergency door."

"Emergency door? Are you at the library?"

"Yep." She pops the 'p', still talking in a regular voice. "You should have seen the people jump when you called. You'd think they'd never heard a phone go off." She laughs, ignoring the grumbles behind her. "The emergency door mean something to you?"

"Matt saw another passenger with black eyes opening the emergency exit. Max thinks it's demon possession. And what are you doing at a library anyway?"

Growing up, it had been like pulling teeth to get his little sister into a library, and she caused a huge commotion once he did. She got better as she got older, handling the need for silence for longer periods of time before it'd get to her, and she'd have to leave or make some disturbance, usually involving getting Max to do inappropriate things to the other patrons or messing with Justin.

"Research. Trying to figure out what this crap is."

An image pops into his head, Alex sitting at one of the computers, fingers typing in random search words and frustration coloring her features as she tries to figure out whatever her mysterious substance is.

A bark of laughter escapes before he can stop it, and he can practically feel his sister's glare over the phone before he pulls himself together. "Could it be sulfur?"

He can hear rustling on the other end of the phone, a couple clicks, and then Alex is moving.

"Could be. Meet me at the air strip. I'm gonna call John and see if he can let us into his office."

She hangs up without a good-bye, and Justin shuts his phone with a small snap, filling his little brother in on their plans as he makes a U-turn.

Alex and John are already in the office when they get there, nobody stopping them as they weave their way to the back, Justin trying to make sure they don't get lost and avoiding a yelling man who's banging erratically on a piece of metal. The older man looks up when they enter, his face having been bent over a microscope.

"Definitely sulfur," he says as soon as Max shuts the door. "You can look for yourself."

He indicates the eyepiece as he gets up, Justin coming around to give it a quick glance and confirmation.

"Demon then," he says, stepping back.

He looks at his sister, sees her contemplating how to handle this. There's nothing that can kill a demon, there's no way to destroy it. The best they can hope for is to exorcise the host and send the demon back to Hell or wherever it is demons come from, but the passenger who opened the door had been listed among the dead.

"But why a plane? It's one thing to possess someone, but to use them to cause a crash…" Her hands come up to rest on her hips as she looks to Justin for the answers.

"Do they not do that?" John is standing by the door, doing his best to follow along with the conversation.

"Not usually," Justin replies, glancing at the older man before turning back to his sister. "They're more into the taking a body on a joy ride kind of thing. Evil sure, but they don't usually go this large scale."

He gets up, leading the other two Russos toward the door.

"We'll do some research, let you know if we find anything."

He steps aside, allowing the three siblings to pass by, nodding his thanks as they leave.

Back at the hotel, Justin boots up the laptop as Alex and Max drag in books from the trunk of the car, heavy tomes surrounding them as they flip through, trying to find anything that fits.

"Here's something." Justin sits up, eyes focused on the computer screen as he grabs his siblings' attention. "The Japanese have a belief that demons are often behind certain disasters: fires, earthquakes, even accidents."

He looks over at them, taking in Alex's hair, tangled from running her fingers through it, and Max's tired eyes.

"Maybe this one has evolved and likes to take down planes."

"I don't know. This isn't what demons do." Alex is frowning, getting off the bed to stand next to him, looking over his shoulder briefly at the screen. "They're more into death and destruction for its own sake, they don't _want _anything. There's never any purpose to what they do. This feels like it's purposeful." Her eyebrows are drawn together in thought and confusion, frustration edging her movements as she struggles to figure this out.

The ringing phone cuts off anything Justin was going to say, and Alex answers automatically with only a short glance at the name.

"Hello?" There's a pause before she straightens, confusion melting away as she concentrates more fully on the voice on the other end. "What happened?" She looks at Justin, eyes displaying the importance of what she's hearing. "And did you find anything?" She glances away, eyes widening ever so slightly before turning back to her brother. "Ok, thanks."

She hangs up, looking at her older brother with a kind of ironic wonder. "John's pilot buddy that survived just crashed."

Justin blinks at her, barely noticing Max getting off the bed and coming closer.

"How?" His little brother asks before Justin can form the words.

"Flying a little two engine plane, trying to get used to being in the air again, and it just took a nose dive. They're calling it a suicide." The look on her face shows how much she buys that, and Justin suppresses the urge to roll his eyes with her. "And what's more, John did a little digging, pulled a few strings. Guess what was found on the control stick."

She gives him a knowing look.

"Sulfur."

She nods in answer.

"There's more." She's looking at him with an unhappy expression, arms coming up to cross over her chest. "It went down exactly forty minutes into flight."

They stare at each other as Max mutters something about Flight 2458 going down at the same time and curses under his breath, understanding coming to all three siblings. Justin immediately begins clicking away on his laptop, Alex slumping into the chair across from him, heels coming up to rest on his chair by his legs, ankles crossed.

"Forty was death, right?"

Her voice is bland, face turned away like she doesn't really want to know the answer, and Justin nods, remembering their father's teaching on biblical numerology, the importance of certain numbers in different religions and the effect they held over the supernatural.

"Great," she mutters, sighing as she falls further into the seat. "Now what?"

"Well…" His fingers slow as they find the information they need, and one hand comes up to rub at his jaw, feeling the roughness of stubble beginning to form. "There have been six plane crashes over the last ten years that have all gone down exactly forty minutes in."

"Survivors?"

"Not until Flight 2485." His brows furrow in thought, realization coming as he looks at Alex. "It's going after the survivors."

Justin gets up and heads over to the night stand where the passenger list still sits. "I'll take the first two, you and Max get the others."

He rips the page so he has the top two names, handing over the sheet to his siblings, both already with their phones out, ready to dial the numbers listed next to each name.

Justin doesn't listen to the methods they use, simply dials the number next to the first name quickly, wondering at his bit of luck when he notices his two listed names share a last name and phone number.

"Hi, yes, am I speaking to a Ms. Wilma Chester?"

It takes him less than six minutes to figure out that Wilma and her husband would not be flying with anybody again anytime soon, throwing as much professional boredom and obviously fake cheeriness into his voice as he could before hanging up with a, "Thanks for taking our survey, and we hope you think of American Airlines for all your travel needs in the future."

"Jody Hamilton is out." Alex's eyes are trained on the page, looking at the next number on the list as she begins to dial. "She's still in the hospital, and her mother insists she's never getting on a plane again." She holds up the phone to her ear, listening to it ring as Justin turns to Max.

His brother just hung up the phone and is looking at Justin, waiting for an answer.

"So?" He gestures to the cell still in Max's hand, and the teen looks down at it. "What did they say?"

"Oh, Amanda couldn't come to the phone. She's at work."

Justin stops, blinks at his brother before taking the few steps needed to see the paper, reading _Amanda Walker _from the page before remembering her occupation and glancing sharply at his brother.

"She's a flight attendant!" Justin exclaims, arms coming out from his side as he stares at Max in frustration.

His brother just nods, but he can hear Alex getting up at his words, grabbing her stuff while still talking on the phone. Justin takes a calming breath, resisting the urge to thump his brother on the back of the head, grabbing an empty duffle and the Chevy keys and ushering Max towards the door.

He curses under his breath, feeling a bit of satisfaction as Alex gives their little brother a smack to the back of the head as they head out.

"Ok, thanks." The phone clicks shut as they climb into the car, Justin behind the wheel. "Joseph isn't willing to get back on a plane anytime soon."

Justin pulls onto the open road, heading for the highway. "Do we know what time Amanda's getting on a plane?"

"Her sister said it leaves at seven, that if I knew her cell number I could try and catch her."

He glances at Max, wondering not for the first time why his little brother couldn't tell them everything they needed to know at once. Alex curses as she looks at the clock, and Justin tears his eyes away from the road to see the red 6:15 on the dash.

"We're not going to make it."

"Not if you keep driving like that. Should have let me take the wheel."

Justin steps on the gas a little harder, praying they don't draw the attention of a police car.

He pulls up in front of the airport, parking the Impala at the front door as he pulls the lever to pop the trunk and shoves the keys into Max's hands as they climb out.

"Park it," he commands.

He hauls the empty bag to the back, lifting the spare tire compartment lid and filling the bag with holy water and books on exorcism, just in case. He has most of them memorized, but it's been years since he's had to perform and doesn't want to risk the chance of messing up.

He and Alex enter the building at a run, the squeal of tires as Max pulls away fading behind them as they head for the counter.

"What Britannia flight leaves at seven?"

Maybe the desperation Justin hears in his voice is all in his head, because the woman behind the counter takes her sweet time looking it up, perky smile never leaving her face.

"Flight 424 to Indianapolis boards in thirty minutes, gate thirteen. Did you need tickets?"

He reaches his hand into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Yes."

"Wait. What? No." Alex grabs his arm, hauling him a few feet away. "We can't get on that plane."

"Why not?" His eyebrows come together in confusion, looking at his little sister's wide-eyed stare. "Alex, if we don't get on that flight and perform the exorcism, over a hundred people are going to die."

"Now just hold on a minute. There are other things we can do. Bomb threat? Maybe we can try her sister again?"

"There's no time." He takes in her nervous demeanor, eyes catching on the way her bottom lip becomes prisoner between her teeth, seeing the fear skittering behind her eyes. "Are you afraid to fly?"

"What?" Her voice comes out defensive as she scoffs at him, arms crossing over her chest, trying to act nonchalant and failing. "No, no, of course not."

He heaves a sigh, looking over to where the woman behind the counter is still smiling cheerfully at anyone that passes by. "Ok, I'll go by myself."

"You can't do that. You said it yourself that plane is going to crash."

The worry in her eyes turns to panic before her face goes hard, resolve coming in and her chin jutting out. She huffs, turning to stomp her way to the counter, Justin hurrying at her heels to keep up.

"Two tickets for the seven o'clock flight to Indianapolis," Alex snaps, fingers coming out to hook in Justin's belt loops, turning him sharply so she can reach in his back pocket to the wallet within. She shoves the card at the woman, angrily drumming her nails against the hard counter as she waits for it to go through.

They make it through security, the man at the x-ray machine giving them an odd look when they set their bag down to be scanned. A small hand grasps onto Justin's arm as they're boarding, nails digging in hard enough that he can feel them through the fabric of his jacket, and he looks down at his sister's frightened face, wondering if maybe he should have done this one alone after all.


	9. I Was Born Without Wings For A Reason

8-Phantom Traveler (I Was Born Without Wings For A Reason)

She wants a drink. That's what people do on flights when they're nervous, but you don't drink until the job is over with. It's a rule. One she really wants to break as the flight attendant passes her with calls to remain in their seats.

Justin notices her stiffness, one hand coming out to rest on her wrist, and she fights the urge to turn her hand over and cling to his, the little sister instinct telling her that he can fix it. "Just try and relax."

"Just try to shut up," she hisses back, keeping her eyes straight ahead, but her hand disobeys her orders to cling to the arm rest, flipping over and clutching at her big brothers larger one. She pointedly doesn't look at him and is grateful when all he does is squeeze lightly in reassurance.

Her breath comes quickly through her nose as the plane starts to take off, nails digging into the back of her brother's hand hard enough to cause him to flinch, and she curses this stupid phobia of hers that she can't even take satisfaction in the discomfort she's causing him. Her hand doesn't relinquish its hold as the plane levels off.

"I was wondering," Justin starts, voice low and head bent down to her level, "how it is that we're going to do this."

Alex half wonders if this is his way of trying to distract her, but they're going to have to perform a full exorcism in a crowded plane with no idea of who the possessed person is, and this is Justin. He plans.

"Not gonna be easy."

"We need to find the demon first." He glances at his right wrist, at the watch there, left still clutched in her hand. "We've got thirty-three minutes. Who's a good candidate?"

She forces her mind to focus, thinking of what she knows about demons and what kind of people they usually take over.

"This is Amanda's first flight since the crash. She's gotta be pretty stressed." It's a good lead, better than trying to find someone on the plane with a life controlling addiction, severe emotional distress providing the weakness needed by the demon to worm it's way into its victim. She glances over her shoulder, noting the blond haired woman in uniform standing near the back. "Think that's her?"

"Might be. We should test."

Alex nods, reaching for the bag at her feet, fear lightening slightly as the task takes her. She pulls it into her lap, still refusing to let go of her brother's hand as she awkwardly unzips it, hand reaching in and grasping one of the clear plastic bottles within.

"Or we could just say 'Christo' and see if she flinches," suggests Justin.

She shoots him a glare, noting his smug smile as she drops the holy water back in the bag and kicks it to her feet once more.

"Hate you," she hisses, yanking her hand away and standing quickly while he laughs, making her way to the back. The plane shakes slightly, and Alex suddenly wonders why she has to be the one to do this, pausing in the aisle to cling to the back of a redhead woman's chair. "Justin." Her voice comes out way too soft, her fingers digging into the fabric of the seat as she tries to pull her mind back onto the case.

A hand touches her back, and she jumps, head whipping around quickly to see her brother, a much less amused look on his face, his eyes soft with concern. She grabs his arm, fingers digging hard into the jacket as she begins to walk, pulling him behind her. Some guy three rows back snickers and mutters something about the mile high club, and she grits her teeth to stop herself from flipping him the finger. Better people think she's getting lucky than she's terrified and needs to hold her big brother's hand.

They make their way to the back, the small hallway the woman occupies cramped with her and Justin squeezing in.

"Hi." The woman smiles brightly at them, and Alex wonders if that's some kind of rule for working at the airport.

"Sorry, she's a bit of a nervous flier." Justin smiles back, warm hand coming up to rest on her lower back, forcing her to release his arm.

"Happens to the be-"

"Christo," she cuts her off, wanting this done and over with so they can perform the exorcism and get back to their seats.

The woman's eyes come together in confusion, looking away from Justin to stare at her for a second. "Excuse me?" The smile doesn't falter, and Alex curses under her breath.

"Are you Amanda?" Justin makes a noise at her blunt question, hand tightening on the back of Alex's shirt, a warning she ignores.

"Y-yes." She looks nervous, fidgeting with the cups on the cart before her as she looks between the siblings. "How did- Can I get you something to drink?" The smile is back to being fake and cheery, nervousness flitting behind her eyes as she tries to remain professional around what she obviously thinks are two insane passengers.

"Sorry, she overheard one of the other stewardess talking about an Amanda manning the drink cart and, well, like I said, nervous flier."

Alex smiles wanly, allowing Justin to sooth the woman before the plane gives another shudder. Alex automatically steps back into her brother, one hand coming up to clutch at his shirt.

Amanda throws her a sympathetic smile, and Alex resists the urge to make a snappy comment. "I'll bring you something as soon as I can."

She tries and fails to give her a smile as Justin releases her fingers from his shirt, clasping her hand in his as he turns and tugs her back to their seats. She kicks him in the back of the leg when she catches a muffled snicker, glaring daggers at the back of his head.

"Now what?" she asks once they're situated back in their seats, her brother having pulled a book from the bag at her feet, fingers lightly flipping through the pages as he scans them for something useful.

"Not sure, but I think I found an exorcism." His right hand absently comes up, finding hers as his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles on her wrist before he moves the book to an angle so she can see it too. "It's two parts."

Alex fights the urge to groan, instead focusing on his words and their meaning to help wash out the tension still coursing through her veins.

"The first part draws out the demon. Makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"And we want that?" She shoots him a look, eyes narrowed as she tries to convey how much of an idiot he is.

"It can't possess anyone else in that state. And then there's the second part, it sends it back to Hell. Permanently."

She nods in understanding, hating that Justin is right. It's the reason she never really cared for demon hunting, preferring the other monsters of the night. It all seemed rather pointless, drag the demon from the host, send it back to Hell, only for it to crawl its way back out and possess some other poor bastard. Her eyes scan the page, taking in the difficulty level and silently cursing that it's not a ritual they'll be able to use on every demon possession. Too complicated, too many risks, and requires way too much energy from the exorcist.

"First things first, we have to find it." She pulls the bag back into her lap, careful not to disturb Justin's hand from her own as she searches through the bag, yanking out an EMF reader from within and grinning triumphantly at her brother. He rolls his eyes, obviously recognizing the one he made when he was sixteen. She yanks back as he reaches for it, eyes narrowed at him. "Get your own."

"That is my own." He looks frustrated, and she takes a moment to delight in it before standing, flipping the little switch on the side as she goes. The machine whirls to life, little row of red lights blinking at the top for a moment before settling down.

"Not anymore." If he had wanted it, he should have taken it with him when he left. She makes her way down the aisle, ignoring her brother's "what am I supposed to use?" behind her, arm swinging back and forth in front of her as she scans the other passengers.

"Ma'am?" She looks up from the device, seeing Amanda standing before her with little bottles of alcohol in her hand. "I've got that drink for you. Did you have a preference?" She looks at the different colored bottles, tempted to take one and down it quickly, but she needs her mind clear for this.

"Um, thanks. Not really." She turns, indicating back over her shoulder. "Can you put it at my seat? I need to stretch my legs." She gives a slightly shaky smile, playing up the nerves showing on her face, and Amanda nods, the two passing each other awkwardly in the narrow space.

A sweep up one aisle and down the other, and not blip from her EMF reader, the little red lights stubbornly remaining unlit. She jumps slightly when Justin touches her shoulder, the book needed to perform the ritual stuck under his arm and a question in his eyes.

She shakes her head, breathing out "nothing" as they both look down at the still quiet device in her hand. "Maybe it didn't get on the plane?" Her voice is hopeful, even as she knows that it's unlikely, and Justin shoots her a look, all reproach and "don't play stupid" written in his eyes. She opens her mouth to bite out a retort when a soft whirling noise cuts in, both sets of the siblings' eyes darting down to take in the now lit line of red across the top of the reader. As one, they look up, seeing one of the pilots of the plane just coming out of the bathroom a couple feet up ahead and cutting across their path.

"Christo," she breathes, her voice barely carrying across the space, but the man flinches, face twisting for a second in mild irritation, eyes flashing black for barely a moment before fading back, face smoothing out once more as he moves back into the cockpit.

Alex turns quickly, grabbing her brother's arm as she goes and dragging him behind her as she rushes them back toward their seats. "What now?"

Justin's thinking, his mind going a mile a minute behind his eyes, and she watches, impatiently fidgeting as she waits for him to come up with an idea. "We could break into the cockpit." He doesn't sound sure, eyes looking at her in no small amount of desperations. "But they have several preventative measures set up to make sure that no unwanted perso-"

"Amanda," Alex says, and Justin glances over his shoulder, expecting the young woman to be standing there. His sister just rolls her eyes. "No, stupid. I meant Amanda can help."

"Alex." Her name is a groan on his lips, her eyes glancing at him sharply. "We can't just pull someone else into this. It's not like she'd beli-"

She grabs his wrist, pulling the watch up so she can look at the face, briefly wondering once again why he can't buy a digital one. "Sixteen minutes. Think you can come up with something better and get the exorcism done by then?" She drops his hand, arms coming out at her sides and eyes wide as she dares him to give her better idea. He mutters something about "twelve actually" and her not being able to read a watch, but nods his head. And Alex is already turning around and heading back to the little nook where they found the flight attendant before he has chance to say more.

She breathes a sigh of relief when the blonde woman is there, replacing supplies on her cart and looking up with a cheerful smile when she sees them. "Did you enjoy your drink?" Her smile wilts slightly when Justin shuts the curtain behind his sister. "Can I help you with something?"

"Um, we really don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there speech,' but we need you to listen to us-"

"We know you were on Flight 2485," Justin cuts in, and Alex feels a bit relieved that he knows how to handle this because they don't have a lot of time, and she's not sure how to convince Amanda that monsters, or at the very least demons, are real in ten minutes.

Instantly, the smile drops from her lips, worry coloring her features as she tilts her head to the side. "Who are you?"

Her brother ignores the question, carrying on like she hadn't said a word. "We've spoken to other survivors from the flight. We know something other than mechanical failure happened on that plane, and we need your help or it's going to happen here."

"I'm sorry, but I'm very busy. I need to get my cart restocked and-" She moves to go around them, head down and eyes refusing to meet theirs in obvious denial, and Alex catches her arm, pulling her back in and moving her head up to eye level with the girl.

"We're not going to hurt you." The woman shoots her a look, and Alex resists the urge to roll her eyes, fully aware that they're both approximately the same size and therefore, in Amanda's eyes, evenly matched. "But something is going to happen. The pilot for 2485 - Chuck - yeah, he's dead."

She pauses, eyes blinking at the dark hair girl for a moment as she processes the words. "He's dead. How?"

"Plane crash." Amanda's attention goes back to Justin, eyes a little wide as she tries to process the information. "Two plane crashes in two months. That's not normal."

She opens her mouth, shutting it when nothing comes out, her eyes darting away for a second before coming back to settle on the siblings.

"There was something going on on Flight 2485. Maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't, but that something is going on on this flight as well."

Amanda stares at Justin, processing his words, and Alex feels her fingers flex on the other woman's arm in an urge to shake her. She might have if she didn't know that it would hurt their case and probably would have convinced Amanda they were crazy and that she needed to get the hell away from them.

Her eyes drop, glancing at the floor as she begins to speak, voice even and low, lacking the peppy cheerfulness it held before. "There was a man. He had these... eyes."

"Black eyes." Amanda looks at Justin, nodding her head and letting out a soft "yeah" before blinking and shaking her head, pulling up to full height as she extracts her arm from Alex's grasp.

"What do you need from me though?"

"We need you to get the co-pilot. Bring him back here so we can talk to him." She keeps her voice even, firm and watches as Amanda turns to her, confusion once again in her eyes.

"Why?"

"The entity that caused the passenger from Flight 2485's eyes to go black is cur-"

She rushes to cut off her brother, watching Amanda's eyes goes wide and unsure as Justin continued to prattle on. "We don't have time to explain. We just need you to get him back here."

"How they hell am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. Just do it. Whatever it takes, get him back here," Alex snaps.

"I could lose my job and-"

"You'll lose a hell of a lot more than that if you don't."

They stare at each other, Alex trying to convey the importance of the situation to the other woman as Justin fidgets beside her, looking down at his watch every few seconds.

"Ok, ok." She pushes past them, Alex letting her go this time, one hand reaching out to brush the curtain back temporarily as she goes through.

Alex shares a glance with her brother before they both turn back to watch Amanda make her way down the aisle, pausing before the cockpit door and knocking lightly. She opens it nearly immediately after, slipping inside and shutting it neatly behind her. She's gone less than a minute, the metal door opening once more to reveal the co-pilot behind her as they make their way back to the Russos.

The siblings move quickly, one to either side of the door way. Justin hands Alex a plastic bottle half-full of holy water and pulls the exorcism book from under his arm, flipping to the page needed within seconds and resting the worn cover on the fingers of his right hand. His left is curled around a roll of duct tape that Alex quickly snatches, giving him a glare as her head indicates the book.

Amanda comes in first, the pilot directly behind her, and they move, Alex grabbing his arm and twisting as Justin aims a kick to the knee, the soft pop as he goes down letting them know that he'll walk with a limp the rest of his life. Justin follows him down, legs landing heavily on the man's abdomen and knocking the wind out of him as Alex sinks to her knees, a piece of silver tape already ripped from the roll and placed securely over his mouth.

"I thought you said you were just going to talk to him?" Amanda's voice is horrified, and she's staring at the siblings as Justin tries to get the thrashing body beneath him to stay down.

"We are," Alex replies, unscrewing the top of the plastic bottle and flicking the water over the possessed man's chest, watching it smoke and sizzle as it makes contact with skin, the white material darkening with moisture. "Amanda," she snaps, tearing the young woman's attention away from the jerking man. "Go guard the door. Now."

She jumps, moving quickly to obey, and Alex feels a flicker of satisfaction at having her order so readily followed.

"Alex." Her brother's voice is strained, grit out through his teeth, and she goes back to flicking the water bottle in her hand, scattering droplets of holy water onto the struggling man. A couple land on his face, the skin reddening as it the liquid hisses on contact, leaving behind small burns. Her other hand moves forward, landing on the man's neck in an attempt to keep him from moving too much, and not for the first time, she curses her petite frame as her brother begins to read.

Latin words fill the room, the body beneath her brother bucking frantically as Justin reads. She pours more holy water, distracting the demon as best she can as it flinches and twists, fighting less to dislodge and more to get away.

Her brother's knee slips. The co-pilot's arm jerks out from beneath it and knocks the bottle from Alex's fingers, shoving Justin off. He lands on his side, words ending as he struggles to keep his hand around the book.

Alex begins to rise, thoughts of throwing herself on the pilot until her brother can get back to reading going through her mind, but an elbow to the stomach stops her, and the demon-possessed man rips the tape from his mouth.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend," he hisses, voice harsh and layered wrong, sounding inhuman to her ears. "Must have died screaming."

He's reaching for Justin who's paused in his search for the spot where he left off, eyes trained on the demon instead, and Alex reacts without thinking. She calls her brother's name as she launches herself at the man's back, wrapping her arms around his elbows in an attempt to lock them in place, despite her knowledge of the unnatural strength lent to him by the demon inside.

Her brother shakes his head once, gray eyes finding the page once more as he begins to read, the Latin coming out strong in the small space. The demon thrashes, throwing himself backwards so Alex's back hits the unforgiving floor in harsh _thud_. But she holds on, only moving her grip once Justin finishes the words, both of them wiggling and squirming their way onto either side of the man in an effort to pin him down as the demon is expelled from his body in a cloud of thick, oily smoke.

He collapses underneath them, his body going abruptly slack as they look up in time to see the demon disappear into the vent.

"Where'd it go?" She looks around, rising to her knees as she scans the small room.

"It's in the plane."

It's like his words are the signal for the plane to lurch, lights going out as Alex is thrown to the side, the adrenaline from the fight coming back as terror grips her. This is why she hates flying, because the plane is going to crash and burn, and she's going to die, and there's nothing she can do, nothing she can fight, nothing she can kill that will stop it.

"Alex!" The plane jolts, dropping suddenly as Justin's voice rings out, calling to her. "We have to finish this." He's suddenly before her, hand on her elbow as he tries to lift her up, and she turns, clinging to him without thought and burying her face in his upper arm, a small whimper escaping her lips as he settles next to her on the metal floor.

She can hear the screams from the passengers as she feels Justin's arm moving, her fingers tightening their grip as she moves closer, pressing her body against his side as best she can.

"Alex," his voice is soft, soothing as his breath brushes her ear, and she whimpers again. The muffled sound of pages turning reaches her ears, but she doesn't look to see what it is. Latin once again fills the air, her brother's loud voice shouting over the screams filling the plane, finishing the last line in a defining yell. "_Glorium padre!_"

There's a flash, like lightening suddenly filling the space, and Alex refuses to open her eyes to see what happened, the plane slowing and shuddering as it evens out, lights flickering back on and Justin breathing heavily against her. He sinks back against the wall, Alex going with him as she keeps her eyes shut tight, pressing her face more firmly into the area below where his neck meets shoulder and she tries to get her breathing under control. One arm comes up to weakly wrap around her, tucking her closer to his side as they recover, Alex remembering how much energy the exorcism was said to take out of the performer as she wraps her arms around her brother, hearing his heart beating rapidly under her ear as she turns her head to face the wall.

They touch down in some small town, pilots too afraid to try and make it to Indianapolis. The rumors are engine malfunction, probably what will be on the official report as well, but they're off the plane, back on land, and she's not going to worry about it. They did their part.

She grabs Justin's arm, indicating the exit with her head as soon as they're out the gate. He looks behind him, glancing over to where a man in uniform is taking Amanda's statement before turning back to Alex.

"Let's go," she whispers, pulling at his arm lightly. She doesn't want to stay, to have to give some made up recollection of events to an officer who will only half listen to what she has to say.

Justin nods, moving the arm under her hand up until his fingers catch hers. She rolls her eyes, thinks about yanking her hand back because they aren't on the plane anymore and she doesn't need a babysitter, but he's looking at her, eyes wounded and face clouded over in that all-too-familiar grief.

Her eyebrows come together, confusion coloring her features as they move away from the crowd, heading towards the exit.

"You ok?" She keeps her voice low, her head bent towards him as she looks around the airport, eyes casually scanning for any eavesdroppers or a payphone. Her cell died on the plane, and they need to call Max and tell him where they are.

"It knew. About Juliet." He's not looking at her, studying the ground before his feet like a sudden obstacle will pop up that he'll have to avoid.

"They lie," she replies quickly, half-way wanting to add a "stupid" after. Justin knows this, better than even she does. Demon's can scan your mind, pick up whatever it is you're thinking about. Hell, the really powerful ones can delve into the thoughts you aren't even considering at the moment. "Don't let it mess with you."

She can feel him stiffen beside her, see him straightening to his full height out of the corner of her eye, and she hides a grin. He doesn't like being reminded about something so simple from his baby sister.

He pulls his hand from her grasp, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, and she frowns, staring at the device in his hands as he holds down the power button with his thumb.

"You actually turned it off on the plane?"

Justin gives her a smug grin, grief dissipated or at least buried, flipping the phone around so the screen is before her. "Rules of flying."

Alex rolls her eyes, teeth gritting as she cross her arms over her chest, but her brother ignores her, already hitting the speed dial for Max's cell, putting the phone to his ear and wandering over to a café.

She goes up to the counter, digging out Justin's wallet from her back pocket, not bothering to look at the barista taking her order. "Two coffees. One with five creamers, five sugars. Other black."

She hands over the credit card without a word, glancing back at her brother as he grabs a table, still talking to Max. She shoves the plastic back into the wallet, refusing the receipt as she picks up the drinks and heads over to join Justin.

"Ok… see you then." He ends the call with a quick press of the end button, sliding the phone into his pocket as she sits down. She hands over his beverage and receives a thankful smile. "He'll be here in about an hour."

She nods, taking a sip of the sweet concoction before setting it down on the little wooden table and kicking him lightly under the table. She grins cheekily at Justin when he looks up, and he smiles back before retaliating.

**A/N: "Christo" is Latin for Christ.. according to Supernatural. I've never bothered to confirm.**

**I couldn't find the exorcism that Sam said, so I left it out. Ugg, I so wanted to add it but the perfectionist in my wouldn't allow the wrong one to be put in.**

**I'm a little behind on this fic due to taking a break for my birthday, but hey, I figure I'm excused. B-days are meant to be celebrated. **


	10. Two Can Keep A Secret

**A/N: This and chapter ten make me unhappy. I didn't want to go the Sam and Dean route of figuring this one out, but couldn't think of another way until after I'd already written this chapter and sent it to my beta. (Well, I had a way half-way figured out, but then I got stuck) Sadly, I'm in no mood to completely rewrite it and then send it back so ya'll are stuck with it this way. There was plenty of other things in it I got to change, but the solving of the case is too similar to the show to make me happy.**

9-Bloody Mary (Two Can Keep A Secret)

"Why?" There's blood dripping steadily from the wound across Juliet's stomach, making small dots on the floor as she takes slow steps towards him. "Why, Justin? Why me?"

He opens his mouth to speak, to scream, anything, but there's an unseen spark, and suddenly she's burning and it's hot and he can't move back from the flames licking away at her body. Stumbling onto the bed, his eyes move up to the ceiling where his mother is watching him with a steady gaze.

"Justin!"

His eyes snap open, the echoes of Juliet's voice lightly overlapping that of his sister's, both calling to him, and he can feel Alex's hand on his arm, roughly shaking him awake.

"God," she sits back, one leg coming up to tuck under the other as she settles on the end of the bed. "You're so noisy when you're having a nightmare. It's annoying." But her eyes hold worry, one hand laid on the mattress between them within touching distance, and he nods, acknowledging both her unspoken concern and gentle ribbing.

"I've found a hunt," she states, holding up the newspaper still clutched in her left hand. "Steven Shoemaker bled out in his bathroom. Room was locked, and they're still not sure how it is he actually started bleeding to begin with."

Tossing the newspaper in his lap as she stands, Alex turns away for a second before glancing back at him. "Do we need to talk about this?"

He shakes his head, eyes focusing on the print in front of him, scanning the obituary before glancing up in time to see the mixture of both relief and worry on his sister's face.

Max walks in from the front door, fast food bags in one hand and cell phone in the other. Justin shoots Alex a look, wondering why she decided to trust their brother with a food run on his own.

"I've been trying Dad's cell," his little brother says as he dumps the bags on the tiny table next to the motel room's only window. Justin slides out from under the blankets, ignoring putting on pants in favor of food as he takes the few short steps to what will temporarily be their breakfast table. He doesn't bother to tell Max that it doesn't work, he and Alex having both called on several occasions only to get sent straight to voicemail.

"He's changed his message."

He stops, one hand buried in a white bag, fingers curled around what he thinks is some kind of breakfast burrito as he turns his head to stare at his younger brother.

"Changed?" he asks, finally removing his hand from the sack and pulling out what will be his meal from within. "How?"

Max pulls the phone away from his ear, hitting a few buttons to activate speakerphone, the loud ringing filling the tiny room as Alex moves closer to the phone.

_"You've reached Jerry Russo. I can't answer the phone. If this is an emergency, call my daughter Alex at 873-555-3235. She and Max will do everything they can to help."_

Justin stares at the cell phone, feeling frustration and anger well up in him. Their father had time to change his message, to record a new one altogether, but couldn't answer his phone any number of the times he and Alex had tried to reach him. Couldn't bother to let any of them know that he was ok, that he was alive. Justin tosses the burrito back into the bag, appetite lost as he moves around the room looking for the jeans he discarded last night. He pulls them on without a word, looking up at his siblings once he's got them buttoned. Max is looking down at his phone, seeming like he's debating calling again, and Alex is sitting on one of the beds, lost in her own thoughts.

"We should get going," she says suddenly. "Gotta get to Ohio before they bury Steven."

They move quickly around the room, gathering up the discarded clothes from last night and Justin's laptop. Max grabs up the weapons beneath the pillows while Alex checks the bathroom for any lingering beauty products before they hit the road.

* * *

They drop Justin off at the library as soon as they get into Teledo, Alex and Max going off to the hospital to take a look at the corpse. The librarian, a middle-aged woman with too much eye makeup, leading him to a row of ancient computers along the way.

"Thank you," he whispers, shooting her a polite grin as she walks off, the same bored expression that was on her face when he walked in. He sits down in the creaky chair, pulling it closer as he opens an internet page. The library's service isn't as fast as he's used to, the page taking a few moments to come up, and Justin taps his fingers on the wooden table as he waits.

He opens a few medical sites, ready for when one of siblings texts in with more details on what they've found out, and a general internet search page. The evidence points towards supernatural events, but all bases need to be covered. It doesn't take long for his phone in his pocket to start vibrating, Justin fishing it out and open to see he's got a text from Max.

_doc won't let us see body. Alex being flirty. not working_

Justin shuts his phone with a roll of his eyes, setting it on his thigh as he goes back to the page on the screen before deciding there's nothing else he can do at the moment and clicking a new page and opening his e-mail. He gets two read before his phone vibrates again, nearly making him jump.

_eyes melted_

He moves quickly, closing his e-mail and revealing one of the medical websites, typing in the phrase "liquefied eyes" into the search. It reveals nothing, and Justin frowns, opening a fresh Google page and searching for natural causes. He dismisses several sites as useless before his phone vibrates again, the screen revealing that Alex is the sender this time.

_blood n da brain. doc dont no y. max tryn 2 crwl n body fridge. :/_

He texts back a quick _OK _before going back to the screen, clicking on a few more links, but the closest thing he finds is that some stroke victims will have blood vessel burst in their eyes.

He abandons the natural death approach, closing all pages before opening the library's page of reference, looking for past cases similar to that which happened.

He doesn't find any strange deaths going back fifty years, or at least nothing connected to Steven's murder. There was what looks to have been a black dog in the sixties, but it's long gone by now.

Justin's phone vibrates once more, a message from Alex containing the word _here,_ and he quickly closes the page and deletes the browser's history. It won't stop a thorough search, and they don't have any need to cover their tracks, but it never hurts to be safe. Justin heads out, giving a nod to the still bored looking librarian.

"Find anything?" his sister greets as he gets in the passenger side, Max crawling into the back and leaving dirty shoe prints on leather between the seats.

"No. Not enough information for a full search."

She nods, turning back onto the road, one hand on the wheel and the wind from the rolled down window blowing back her hair.

"There's a wake for him at the house. We're thinking the daughter who found him might know more than she told the police." She doesn't say more, about how wakes often leave people's houses open, strangers coming and going without question, a good time to get a better look at the place a victim died.

The street that Steven Shoemaker and his daughters Donna and Lily live on is crowded with cars, Steven having apparently been well liked by the community, and Justin is unsure if this will make their job easier or harder. The three of them make their way up the sidewalk and onto the porch, walking in the already open door, Justin noting the large arrangement of formal black attire and suddenly feeling underdressed in his jeans and button up.

"I'm going to check out the bathroom where he was found." Alex's voice is low, one hand on his arm as she leans forward on her toes to speak in his ear. Justin nods his head, meeting her eyes for a moment before she turns and heads up the stairs.

Justin and Max make their way to the back yard, looking for the group of young girls crowded around the grieving sisters, and head over.

"Hi. Donna, right?" Justin breathes as they approach the group, eyes trained on the girl from the photo in the entrance way, smiling face next to that of her father's. "We're very sorry for your loss." The young man tries not to flinch at the words, at the cliché-ness of them and how meaningless he's sure they must sound after hearing them all day.

"Thank you." Her voice doesn't waver, one hand coming up to tuck a strand of short dark hair behind an ear, the other staying clasped in the hold of the blonde girl sitting beside her.

"I'm Justin, and this is Max," he indicates his little brother, Max nodding once in greeting, before his gaze flickers back to the young girl sitting silently on the other side of her sister. "We worked with your dad."

She blinks, glancing over at her friend across from her before looking back at them. "You did?" And Justin internally curses for not looking up Steven's occupation, not doing more research.

He changes the subject quickly, bringing up the official report of a stroke. "Funny, there wasn't any symptoms of stroke. No dizziness or migraines. At least not that I remember." He looks at Donna, pulling on the slowly healing pain from losing Juliet and putting some of it into his eyes, lets his sadness translate to his face, and she softens, all suspicion melting away.

"That's cause he didn't have a stroke." They all glance over at the youngest daughter in surprise, her eyes having finally risen from the ground to stare determinately at him.

"Lily." Her sister berates, looking at the young girl. She can't be more than twelve or thirteen. "Don't say that. You didn't do it."

Justin indicates Max, nudging his brother lightly in the side before the young man moves forward, kneeling before the girl. "What makes you think that you did it?"

Lily ignores her sister's arm wrapped around her, pain-filled gaze resting solely on Max. "Because I said it. Right before he died. I called to her. Bloody Mary. Three times in the bathroom mirror."

"But he didn't say it, did he?" Max tilts his head to the side, his voice the perfect pitch to sound like he's having a normal conversation with the girl, like he's taking her and her worry seriously, and for all Justin knows, he could be.

"No, I don't think so. But she takes eyes, and Dad's were gone."

"It's not your fault, Lily," her sister says, running her fingers through the preteen's long hair in comfort.

"If your dad didn't call her then it wasn't Bloody Mary," Justin says with as much conviction in his voice as he can muster and Lily looks at him, the guilt in her eyes lessening as she takes in this bit of evidence, slowly letting Donna pull her into her side, resting her head on the older girl's shoulder.

Max stands, following Justin as they say their goodbyes and make their way back to the house.

"Dad ever find any signs of the Bloody Mary legend being real?" Justin asks when they're out of earshot.

"Not that I know of." Max shrugs, not looking too concerned, but his eyes keep straying to the mirror in the hall. "Wonder what he saw in the mirror." Little brother has always had a habit of picking up on the nearly unnoticeable details, even as he misses the blatant obvious things staring them in the face, and Justin trusts his instincts on this.

"He did die right in front of the mirror. And his eyes were gone." He looks away, glancing around the house as he tries to put the pieces together. His eyes catch on Alex coming down the stairs, heading towards her brothers when she sees them.

"Find anything?" She asks without preamble.

Justin shakes his head, seeing Max do the same out of the corner of his eye. "The younger daughter Lily said she called for Bloody Mary just before her dad died. Think that could be it?"

Alex shrugs, hands going into her back pockets as she thinks about it. "Hundreds of kids call to Bloody Mary every day. We don't see them dying."

He begins to nod, taking in this fact before something clicks. "Unless this is the town the legend began in." They look at each other, the theory spinning between them as the idea grows.

The three turn, heading back to the car as they discuss what they'll need to find on the way towards the motel they saw on the way in.

Once they've settled in room nineteen, Justin's laptop booted up and plugged into the limited wifi, they settle in to search.

"There can't be that many Marys that died in this town," Alex says after Justin lets yet out another frustrated sound.

"That's just it; there isn't even one. I've found a Katherine that died in front of a mirror and a Stan who had a mirror dropped on him but no Mary's." He turns the screen so she can get a better look at it from her perch on the bed closest to him, sharpening a blade on a whetstone with careful precision.

"Can't you just broaden it to all Marys that were killed in front of a mirror?" She's giving him a look like he's an idiot, head tilted to the side and dark eyes glancing up at him through her lashes.

"There's over fifty versions of who the original Mary was. Some say she was a witch, others a murdered bride. There's even a recent tale that she was a cross-dresser that was a victim of hate crime." He lets out a breath, pushing the laptop away from him as he rubs his tired eyes, "There's just too much."

He takes a moment, staring at the window, trying to get his thoughts to line up in an order that makes sense before pulling the computer back towards him. "What about the family? Maybe this is about them." His sister stands, coming up behind him as he types Shoemaker into the town's local history. It brings up a Linda Shoemaker, the late wife of Steven, died nearly ten years ago, an overdose of sleeping pills.

Alex gives him an unsure look, shrugging when his own skepticism shows. "It's a start. Maybe." She stifles a yawn, going back to the bed to put her weapons away before grabbing her night clothes out of the bag. "Whatever it is, Mary or not, I'm thinking we've found all we can tonight." She heads into the bathroom, and Justin shuts the laptop, pulling out his own sleepwear and glancing at Max, already passed out on the bed closer to the wall.

They change quickly, slipping under the covers and dozing off, a fleeting worry about dreams of Juliet entering his head before he's pulled into slumber.

* * *

Justin's on a breakfast run the next morning, the first to wake up and therefore the first to go for food. He shoots an extra wide grin to the diner waiter handing him take out before turning back to the door, half wondering if maybe the young man thought he was flirting with him. He had no nightmares the night before, no dreams of his mother or Juliet or fire, and he's beginning to suspect that the presence of one of his siblings by his side at night is what is keeping the dreams at bay.

He pulls the Impala keys from his front pocket, balancing the cups and bags of food in one hand as he opens the door and slides in. He starts up the car, turning up the talk radio station his sister would hate as he pulls onto the road and makes his way back to the motel.

His siblings are already up when he walks in, Alex at the computer. She glances up when he places the food and coffee before her, and then turns back to the screen, while Max flips through a book on dispelling evil spirits.

"I was thinking that maybe it's Linda," his sister says as Justin makes himself comfortable on his bed from last night, pulling out the styrofoam box containing his omelet. "What if the sleeping pill thing wasn't an accident?"

"Why would Mary go after Linda?" Max replies, eyes glancing up in confusion from the page he was studying.

"It might not be Mary." The irritated look she sends their little brother makes Justin wonder if the other boy hasn't asked this question before. A knock on the door cuts him off before he can say anything, add his own opinion in on the matter.

He gets up quickly, one hand wrapping around the gun tucked into the back of his jeans as he opens the door a crack with his other. The friend of Donna's, the one that held her hand, stands on the other side, blond hair a mess and face tear streaked. He steps back with surprise, fully opening the door as he hand falls from the hidden weapon.

The distressed girl comes in in a flurry of movements, turning quickly, barely glancing at Alex now standing by the table, and Justin notes that she's closed the laptop, before looking back at the oldest Russo.

"Are you a cop?" He blinks in surprise at her words, shaking his head as he shuts the door.

"We told you, we work with Donn-"

"Mr. Shoemaker was a day trader. He worked alone." He flinches at her words, mind suddenly racing for a lie to sooth the situation, eyes catching those of Alex over the blonde's shoulder, his sister's arms crossed over her chest as she stares at him in confused annoyance. "And all those questions," the girl continues, "about his death. What was that about?"

"Look, we're just trying to figure it out. Trying to keep what happened to Steven from happening to anyone else." The girl flinches at his words, eyes closing temporarily as she turns her face away. "Did it? Happen to someone else?"

She looks up, eyes filling with tears as she nods. "Jill, our friend that was sitting across from us at the wake, she died last night. They found her on the bathroom floor." She lets out a choked sob, one hand coming up to wipe at her eyes. "Her eyes… were, g-gone."

"How did you find us?" Alex snaps, drawing the girl's attention to her. "And who the hell are you?"

The blonde blinks at the irritated girl standing behind her before answering in a small voice. "Charlee. I'm a friend of Donna's."

"We met her at the wake," Justin supplies, eyes pleading with his sister, trying to calm her down. Alex shoots him glare before turning back to the girl, fingers of her right hand twitching for a weapon.

"I called around. Looking for your car. Thought they were cops. Thought you could help." Her voice is hard by the end, chin up and eyes defiant through her tears as she stares at the shorter woman.

"We can." The room's occupants look over at Max, who had yet to speak after Charlee had entered the room.

"I'm sorry, Charlee." Justin keeps his voice low, stepping towards the girl with one hand out as if to touch her. "For Jill." She looks up, meeting his gaze and nodding slightly before looking down.

"She said it," she whispered, arms coming up to cross over her chest. "I was on the phone with her, and she did it, called to… Mary." Charlee glances back up, wide eyes searching Justin's. "It's not from that, right? I couldn't be." She looks away when he doesn't answer, staring at the cheap carpet and Justin meets Alex's eyes over the blonde's shoulder.

"Look," cuts in Alex, shoulders sagging as she releases the irritation that had developed at the other girl's entrance. "We're going to figure this out. But it'd help if you could get us into Jill's place. Let us take a look around."

Charlee nods, arms dropping as she pulls herself together. "Ok. I can do that."

"I don't get it," Justin says as soon as he and his siblings are in the car, turning the wheel to follow Charlee out of the motel parking lot. "The first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second one did. What's her pattern?"

His sister shrugs, pulling out their dad's journal and flipping through the pages, looking for any clue.

Charlee pulls over on a suburban street, getting out of her little car and waiting for them to do the same. "Jill lives just up the road. Her mom's home. I can probably get," she gestures to Alex, "inside, but I'm not sure how I can explain you two."

His sister goes around the to the back of the Impala, a mischievous grin on her face as she opens the trunk. "Don't worry about them. They'll meet us in there." She pulls out a camcorder and the EMF reader. Justin is careful to keep himself between Charlee and his sister in case the blonde gets curious. They have far too many weapons in the trunk, the majority of which they carry illegally, and they don't need to frighten the poor girl any more than she has been.

He gives his sister a questioning look when she comes back around, handing the camcorder to Justin as she pockets the reader. Alex points to the side of the home, the little garden next to the brick siding with a little half-wall that's perfect for getting onto the bit of roof between the first and second story and to a bedroom window.

He grabs Max's arm, and the two break off, watching the girls make their way up the front steps. The climb isn't hard, and it doesn't take them long to find the window to what looks like an adolescent girl's room. It's locked, but it only takes a few moments before the door opens, Alex and Charlee coming in, his sister making a beeline to the window and letting them in.

"Girl's got talent," Alex says with a grin. "Lies like a natural."

"What are you guys looking for?" Charlee asks as Justin pulls out the camera and sets it on night vision. There's the whirl of the EMF reader coming to life, little lights blinking for a moment before dying out once more, and Justin shrugs, looking at his sister who's moving around, device in hand.

"Not sure yet." He goes to each mirror in Jill's bedroom, scanning the edges and glass with the camcorder and watching the little screen jutting out from the side for any anomalies.

There's silence from the EMF meter as he finishes with the vanity mirror, working his way into the bathroom connected to the bedroom where Jill's body was found.

"What I wanna know is why Jill said it at all," Alex says, looking at a still sniffing Charlee.

"It was just a joke. She was making fun of Donna's little sister and…" she trails off, one hand coming up from her side, and Justin focuses back on the camera in his hand, eyes catching site of something below the mirror but above the sink when he passes the camcorder over it. A sort of dried liquid seeming to have dripped from under the mirrors edge is along the wall, invisible without the camcorder's night vision lens to look through.

"Hey, Max." His little brother looks up from his spot on the floor by the dresser, one hand digging through a drawer and looking for clues. "Help me get this down."

Max leaves the drawer open, walking into the bathroom and giving the mirror a small tug as Alex leans against the door frame, EMF reader making soft noises in her hand.

Justin uses a pocket knife to unscrew the mirrored door from in front of the bathroom cabinet, he and Max dragging it over to the bed. He runs the camera over every inch on the front before turning it over, Alex looking over his shoulder as they search for more of the mysterious substance. The back is clean, nothing showing up on the camera, but the device in Alex's hand is making light whirling noises, showing signs that there are traces left, even if whatever spirit was there has now left.

Justin starts to peel off the backing, cutting away the dark brown paper designed to hide the plain backing before his sister's impatience gets the best of her and it's torn away in thick strips. Her focus is on the camera, shining the lens down on the back, and the four of them crowd around trying to get a better look.

There's a handprint, seemingly dipped in some clear paint and pressed onto the back, only there's no trace without the camera. The name Cary Bryman is scrawled with a crude hand in thick letters below.

"Know who that is?" Alex directs the question to Charlee, who's staring at the mirror with a kind of confused horror.

"No. Should I?" Alex just shakes her head, the two boys quickly replacing the mirror and putting the room back together.

"We should check out the library." His sister groans at his words, but Justin ignores her. "See if we can find out more on Cary. Meet us at the car." He and Max head out the window, Alex carefully closing it behind them before going out the door behind Charlee.

They leave Charlee's Escort behind, the blonde girl joining Max in the backseat as they head to the library.

"I think I should stay here," Alex says once they're parked outside the building. "Ask Charlee some questions about Jill, really get a feel for the girl." She's moving her hand around in a vague gesture, and Justin resists the urge to sigh before nodding.

"Fine. And while you're at it, entertain Max." He gets out of the car quickly, leaving his sister glaring at him while their little brother jumps forward into the front seat and excitedly starts babbling away. Max can be easily kept amused if you don't let him know that's what you're doing, otherwise he's an excited ball of energy impossible to please or ignore.

There's a smug grin on his face as he enters the building, nodding to the same librarian that was there yesterday and indicating with his hand the wall of ancient computers. She gives him a bored look, turning back to her magazine before Justin even gets fully past her.

He finds the article quickly, printing out the page about the small child involved in a hit and run, paying the ten cent fee to print the piece before heading back to the car.

"Cary," he says as he opens the driver's side door, effectively cutting off Max in what seemed to be a long speech that was leaving Charlee a bit green looking. "Died when he was eight. Hit and run two years ago. Never caught the driver, but they were driving a dark Toyota Camry."

The blonde girl pales, eyes wide as she stares at Justin, barely moving out of the way as Max crawls back into the back seat.

"Jill had one of those," she said, eyes flicking to Alex and back to Justin. "You don't think-" She stops, biting her lips as she gets lost in thought. "She got really freaked out a couple years ago, talked about getting rid of it. Her mom wouldn't let her though. Said they didn't have the money for a new one."

"We need to get back to Donna's house," his sister replies, turning back in her seat as Justin climbs in.

It's a quick drive, the Shoemakers' home only a short way from the library and Charlee's presence easing Donna's worry about allowing the Russos into her house.

The blonde leads the way up stairs, the four of them crowding into the small bathroom as Alex shuts the door behind them. Justin makes quick work of the white backing on the bathroom mirror, taking the camera from Max and flipping on the night vision. Another hand print, and the name Linda Shoemaker appearing on the back in the same dried paint style.

He and Alex exchange looks, ignoring the wide eyes of Charlee behind them, before they turn and leave the bathroom, giving their goodbyes to Donna on their way out of the house, Charlee trailing behind them.

"Now what?" The blonde asks once they're back at her car.

"Now we go back to our hotel, and you go home." Alex's voice is friendly, and Justin wonders what happened to have her warm up to the girl so quickly. "And don't say... you know." She indicates vaguely in the air with one hand, Charlee opening her mouth to protest before closing it and nodding.

She heads back to her car, turning when she reaches the door and smiling at Justin. "Thanks. For… everything I guess."

He just nods, slightly confused because they haven't really done anything, but Alex snorts from the passenger side so he climbs in the Impala, focusing once more on the case.


	11. If One Of Them Is Dead

Bloody Mary (If One Of Them Is Dead)

Alex starts a nationwide search for Marys that died in front of mirrors the moment they get back to the room, ignoring Justin telling her that it's useless, and hacking into a few databases to looking into unsolved cases.

"You can't just decide that any Mary that died in front of a mirror is a suspect," he grumbles as she jots down yet another name and location. "If she's killing in the town, than she's connect to _the town_. Something of her is _here_." His voice is rising in frustration, eyes narrowed on her and Alex continues ignoring him. Besides, she's already got Max with a phone book in his lap looking for any similar names between the Marys and the local residents.

"Why don't you focus on something useful?" she snaps, shooting her brother a glare as he makes yet another frustrated noise. "Both victims had secrets where people died. Both died in front of a mirror. Figure out the connection, genius."

Justin shoots her a glare, arms crossing over his chest and chin raised stubbornly before he looks away.

"There's a lot of folklore about mirrors revealing your secrets and lies, that they're a true reflection of you. Your soul." The words are pulled from him grudgingly, gaining in strength and losing the hard edge as he goes, getting caught up in the theorizing. "Maybe, if you're secret's bad enough, and Mary sees it, she kills you for it. Kind of revenge."

Alex frowns, dark eyes locked on the latest Mary she's found, focusing on the pictures attached before her face splits in a grin.

"Mary Worthington," she says triumphantly, her brothers both coming up to stand behind her as she delves deeper into the article. "She was killed in Fort Wayne, Indiana." She shoots a glance over her shoulder, smiling smugly at her older brother. "Told you I'd find something."

She turns back to the screen, scrolling down and clicking on a photo to make it larger. There's a girl sprawled before a mirror, bloody hand print on the glass and the letters Tre smeared below, another click showing a close up the woman's face, revealing her missing eyes.

"But she was killed in Indiana." One of Justin's long fingers comes up to touch the screen lightly, indicating to the town that Mary was murdered in. The case is still unsolved, left open and abandoned and Alex looks up at her older brother over her shoulder, watching the thoughts and questions swirl across his face before she turns back to the screen.

The town isn't far, and it's not unheard of for a spirit to be able to cross cities, and there's too much there to ignore, but it's still not here in Toledo where the attacks are taking place.

"Detective Morgan," her older brother mutters, eyes still scanning the page as he reaches forward to lightly pick up the laptop, turning it slightly for better access and setting it back down. Both hands land on the keyboard, skin of outer forearm brushing against her shoulder has he begins searching for information on the lead detective on Mary's case.

Doesn't take him long before he has a number, phone out in hand and dialing as Alex scrolls through the case file.

"Detective Morgan?" Justin says once the call goes through, his voice professional and friendly. "Yes, this is Ryan Evens, I'm a reporter with the _Southeast Tribune_. I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding the murder of Mary Worthington." A small grin flits over his face as the detective buys his story, and Alex shifts back to the laptop, gathering up little details from the case; nineteen, eyes cut out from a knife, looked professional.

"Any idea who it was?" She glances back at Justin sitting on the bed, voice risen slightly at that last question and catching her attention. "Did you have reason to suspect him? Beyond the name… So you couldn't prove it, and he got away with murder." Their eyes meet, both thinking the same thing as Justin sits up straighter. "Do you know where she's buried?... I see, thank you for your time-"

Alex snaps her fingers at him, grabbing his full attention as she points the computer screen and the picture of the gold framed mirror. "Actually, I do have one more question if you don't mind. The mirror, any idea what happened to it?" They both flinch at the awkwardness of the question, the lack of segue or any real way to explain his need to know. "I see, well thanks again for you time… You, too."

He flips the phone closed with a soft snap, turning to look at his siblings. "Mary was cremated, and the mirror was given back to her family." He gets up, heading over the small table Alex is still sitting at, scanning the file for Mary's family before opening up Yellow Pages and finding the number.

"Think it's too late to call?" he asks, glancing back at Alex.

A quick glance out the window shows that the sun has just dipped below the horizon, washing the parking lot in the moon's blue-ish glow, and Alex shakes her head. "No, they should still be up."

He nods once, flipping the phone back open and punching the numbers in before pressing it to his ear. Max moves up to take the spot Justin vacates as he heads back to the bed, waiting on a member of the Worthington family to answer.

"Do you think I'll see her?" Her little brother is staring at the picture of the mirror, and Alex is reminded of the night they got Justin back; Max jerking awake in the back seat, the urgency in his voice and a nearly never heard panic lacing through him when he noticed their brother wasn't with them. She shoves the thoughts away, ignoring the memories and all they hold and imply.

"No reason for you to," she says firmly, pulling the laptop away from him and minimizing the page before opening a new one.

"But with the-"

"No," Alex states firmly, clicking into Google images and typing "blue waffles" into the box and carefully avoids hitting anything other than the "search" button before turning it back to her little brother. "What were we talking about?"

"I-" His eyes are glued to the screen, his voice fading out as he takes in the brightly colored breakfast food. "How do they do that?" Max scoots his chair closer, looking at the photos with rapt attention for a few minutes before going up to the top and typing other random words into the search engine.

Alex turns back to Justin just as he's shutting the phone and glancing over to them, and a bit of nervous fear enters her that he may have overheard their conversation before he begins to speak. "Mary's brother sold the mirror a week ago to a store named Estate Antiques here in Toledo." They share a look, Alex already moving towards the other bed where their little brother had left the phone book behind, flipping through the pages quickly to find the address of the little shop.

"Are we thinking the mirror holds Mary's spirit?" Alex pauses briefly in her search, glancing up at Justin as she thinks about the question. It hadn't really been something she'd considered, her thoughts mainly focused on the object being something dear to Mary, something she cared about enough to have developed a strong connection to and tying her here, but his theory makes more sense, several cultures mentioning that a mirror can capture a person's spirit when they die.

"Could be," she answers, looking back at the pages before her and scanning the store names for the one she needs. "Either way, I think destroying it's a good idea."

"Maybe we should make sure she's in the mirror first." She looks up, thumb pressed under the address to Estate Antiques so she doesn't lose it as she lowers the book down. "Better safe than sorry. I'd hate to break the mirror only have us destroy the one way we have of stopping her if she's in another at the time."

"Maybe. But how do we get her into the mirror?" She doubts calling to her would work, both Steven and Jill had people who died by their hands that they'd kept a secret, and whereas her and her brothers have had their fair share of didn't-get-there-quiet-fast-enough's and ignored-evidence-and-someone-dies, they all know about each others'. There's not a single death on Alex's head that either Justin or Max doesn't know about.

"I could-" says Max suddenly, head popping up from the laptop.

"No," she cuts in quickly, silently cursing that he wasn't as distracted as she thought. "There's _nothing _you could do." She's glaring at him, seeing Justin paying rapt attention to them out of the corner of her eye, his mind turning as he takes them in. "Mary goes after those with secrets. It's not a secret if more than one person knows." She gives her little brother a pointed glance before turning away to stare determinedly at the phonebook, ignoring Justin's questioning look.

A thought wiggles in the back of her mind, something squirming its way to the front, and she speaks before it's fully formed. "What about Charlee? She seemed… odd when I told her not to call Mary." She looks up, catching Justin's eye, and they share a few moments of silent deliberation between them before he voices his skepticism.

"But she's a civilian."

"Well, yeah." She's not thrilled about the thought of involving an outsider, especially one who doesn't have any experience in the supernatural. "But I don't know of anyone else who might have killed someone and kept it a secrete. We can at least ask."

She takes his silence as agreement, albeit a grudging one, and sends a quick text to Charlee saying they have a plan and the blonde girl agrees to come by. It takes only a few minutes before there's a knock on the motel door, Alex opening it to reveal the younger girl dressed in jeans and t-shirt, and she feels a bit of respect for the girl going for practical over trendy.

Justin is standing anxiously by the bed Max is sitting on, seemingly letting her take charge of the plans involving Charlee.

"We found what's keeping Bloody Mary here," she starts, not bothering with Mary Worthington's life story. "There's a mirror, and it's… well, long story short, we need to destroy it to stop her." The blonde nods, eyes nervous but determined. "But to do that, we need you to call her to the mirror."

Her eyes widen, and she takes a half step back, hands moving in aborted motions before she settles. "I- I didn't know. He just… and I-"

"You can't tell us," Justin cuts in quietly. "Not yet. You have to call on her first, and we'll break the mirror and then, if you want to, you can tell us what happened." His voice is low, soft, but there's a detachment in it that Alex recognizes. Whether they like it or not, Charlee's stammered half-admission is enough to confirm the young hunter's suspicion.

"You don't have to do this," he adds softly, "but we kind of don't have anyone else."

"I can do it." Her voice is firm, determined, even as her hands tremble slightly before she crosses them tightly over her chest. "I can call her."

That's all they need before the three of them are ushering her out the door, Alex checking over her shoulder to see Justin grabbing the motel and Impala keys before they all climb into the car, Max getting shotgun for once.

Charlee gets in the back, Alex climbing in behind her as Justin starts up the car and pulls out of the parking lot. They drive in silence, Charlee fidgeting next to Alex and biting her lip, eyes staring at the back of the driver's seat.

"Am I going to die?"

Her voice is low, sounding hallow and resigned, and Alex's eyes snap to the other girl, blinking for several seconds at the change in mood before she answers, "No, you're not going to die." She waits a moment for the blonde to look at her. "You're going to call Mary. The moment she shows up, you let us know, and we'll smash the mirror."

"She won't have a chance to hurt you," Justin adds, looking at them through the rearview mirror before he turns back to the road, and Charlee nods quickly once, eyes a little more focused as she glances back at the road.

They pull into the empty parking lot in front of the store, the "Open" sign off and door locked. Max wastes no time picking the lock while Justin gets a couple crowbars and flashlights from the trunk, Alex going over the plan with Charlee one more time to make sure the girl knows her role.

Alex lets out a string of curses when they all get inside, taking a flashlight from her brother, the beam of light exposing what the half-filtered moonlight gave hints of; mirrors line the walls, others lean against various items scattered around the room.

A folded piece of paper is shoved under her nose, Justin's long fingers flipping it open to show the printed picture of Mary's prone figure before the gold framed mirror. Her brother looks far too smug at having thought to bring it along for Alex's liking, but she takes the picture anyways, holding it out before her as she studies the mirror, Justin at her shoulder.

Max moves further into the store, his siblings shortly behind them, Charlee sticking close to Alex's side. They find the mirror near the back, Justin checking it against the printed photo before nodding in confirmation and Alex nudges the blonde forward. The young girl trembles slightly as she stands directly before the mirror, eyes wide as she stares at her reflection.

"Just remember, tell us the moment you see her."

Her voice shakes when she begins to speak, small and quiet in the dark room. "Bloody Mary… Bloody Mary… Bloody… Mar-y." The last comes out a breathy sigh, drawn out and soft, and Alex hefts the crowbar up like a baseball bat, hands stacked one on top of the other, catching sight of her brothers doing the same out of the corner of her eye.

There's a flash of blue and red lights behind Alex, and she catches Justin's eye, her brother indicating with a jerk of his head that he's going to check it out, and she nods in understanding. The last thing they need is to be arrested for breaking and entering.

She turns back to the mirror, noting Charlee still standing tensely before the mirror, eyes flicking over the glass in search for movement. Alex moves her eyes back to the mirror, but all she sees is the three of them in the smooth surface, Charlee framed in the center. It's not until she hears the quiet gasp that Alex tears her gaze away from the mirror.

There's blood dripping steadily from Charlee's eye, and red line marring her cheek as the blonde stands frozen, breath coming faster as she stares horror at her reflection. Alex barely thinks, crowbar swinging easily in her hands and smashing into the mirror with a sharp crash. A silver rain of glass litters the floor, Charlee suddenly letting out a puff of air as she stumbles back a step, and Max moves to the blonde girl's side, hand coming out to pull her close. Alex comes up to her other side, both of the siblings letting out a sigh of relief that it's over and turn to go.

Alex wonders briefly if they'll need to wait for a few minutes while Justin deals with the police when a sound reaches her; a shift of glass, faint and harsh. Charlee feels her stop, her own body freezing in response, and Alex listens intently. There's another rustle, the scrape of glass on tile and a hiss of breath. The three turn slowly, seeing a girl crawl from the now empty frame in jerky movements, dark curtain of tangled hair blocking the view of her face, skin the unnaturally pale of the dead.

Pain burns behind Alex's eyes, slow and steady, and something dark and warm blurs her vision before spilling over onto her cheek. Her breath comes in harsh pants, her chest tight as she struggles to breathe, a voice hissing her mind, "_All those people. You killed them_."

_Not fair,_ she thinks desperately,_ it's not a secret,_ but it doesn't seem to matter anymore. They set Mary free, and now the rules have all changed.

There's blood flowing freely from both her eyes now, wet, sticky lines down her face as she gasps and tries to say on her feet with Mary moving steadily closer. She falls her to her knees as the burning behind her eyes intensifies, and Alex curses silently that some bitter murdered bitch is going to take her out.

Mary stops, curtain of hair shifting slightly as her eyes lock on something just behind Alex and she becomes aware of movement at her back as the pain behind her eyes lessens to a dull ache. Alex turns, catching sight of Charlee and her brother on her knees beside her. The blonde has her hands pressed into the floor before her, head hanging down between her shoulders and Max is breathing heavily on the other side, blinking rapidly to clear the blood from his eyes. She turns further, seeing Justin standing behind them with a mirror held in his hands, Mary's reflection caught within.

She turns back, watching as Mary's mouth moves in silent half-formed words, eyes beginning to bleed as she continues to stare into the mirror. She softens, her once solid form seeming to liquefy as she faces what her spirit has done in revenge, falling in on herself and fading in an abrupt collapse onto the floor, and Alex breathes a sigh of relief, standing quickly and looking to Justin.

"How'd you know to do that?"

"I didn't," he said, his eyes locked with hers, "but I figured she might not be able to handle her own secrets."

Max stands, helping Charlee up, and they make their way out of the store, two unconscious police officers on the concrete outside, and Alex raises an eyebrow at her older brother. He blushes, shrugging guiltily as he glances at the two men.

"They wouldn't believe that I worked here, and I needed to get back inside." There's a teasing remark on her tongue, but he tosses her the keys and heads to the car before she can voice it.

It's not until they're on their way back to the motel that Charlee speaks, Alex having all but forgotten the other girl's existence until Justin turns around in the passenger seat and asks how she's doing.

"I'm fine." Her voice is low, rough and distant, like she's still pulling herself back together after what was witnessed. "I-" she stops, face marring in a frown, blood going deeper into the creases around her mouth, and Alex can visibly see her come back to herself as she watches the blonde in the rearview mirror. "When she spoke to me, when… Mary spoke to me, it was about Todd, my ex."

The Russos fall quiet, waiting for Charlee to tell them her secret. "I loved him, but he- he was intense, kind of scared me, you know? One night, I was at his house, and we got into this fight and I broke up with him. And he got upset and he said… he needed me and he loved me and- if I left, he was going to kill himself. And do you know what I said?" Her voice breaks, guilt coming through the once steady words. "I told him to go ahead, that I didn't care. And I left." Tears began flowing freely down her cheeks, washing away the red stain left behind by Mary's assault, streaking her face pink. "What kind of person am I? That I said that? That I left?"

"You shouldn't blame yourself," Justin said gently, gray eyes focused on the girl in the back seat, and Charlee looks up, eyes locking with the older boy.

"But Mary-"

"Ghosts and spirits, there's no gray area for them. You had a secret, someone died. That was all she cared about. It's not fair, but it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for what he did."

The guilt doesn't fade from Charlee's eyes, but there's a lightness to her when Alex pulls up to her home, and she opens the door, turning back to look at them, her thin arms crossed over her chest as she thanks them. The smile she gives them is only half forced, and Alex would bet money that she'll never fully stop blaming herself for what Todd did, but she's a tough girl, she'll heal.

Alex pulls out onto the street after making sure the blonde makes it inside, anxious to get back to the motel and crawl into bed. There's a heaviness to her limbs and an ache behind her eyes from where Mary had attacked and the pain killers in her bag in their room are going to be a Godsend when she can get her hands on them. She pulls into the parking spot in front of room nineteen with a tired and happy smile, getting out of the car and following her brothers in at a slow pace.

She barely manages to grab a pair of pajama pants and a worn sleep shirt along with the bottle of Tylenol on her way to the bathroom, feeling a stab of regret and irritation at the double standard that she can't just strip down into her underwear like Justin and Max and climb under the blankets.

A handful of water from the sink washes down the pills, and she quickly changes before heading back into the room and falling onto the closest bed, spreading out to take up the entire mattress. There's a small amount of disgust as she realizes she's chosen Max's bed for the night, her little brother currently laying on the other mattress, already out, before deciding that she's too tired to make him switch and that she'll make a point to take a shower in the morning. She catches Justin's eye over Max's shoulder, sees the unasked questions that she doesn't want to answer before he mutters a "G'night" and settles down to sleep. Her big brother has always made a point to be the one closest to the door during night for as long as she can remember, a spot he gives up only when their father is around. Or perhaps Justin got it from Dad, simply taking up the position of shield when Jerry's gone.

She lets the thought fade as sleep takes her, pulling her under as the pills take effect and the pain fades behind her eyes.

**A/N: Wow this is short, but hey, it's finished and I'm tired and want to go to sleep now. **

**Reviews make me happy. As does coffee.**


	12. Friends Don't Let Friends Commit Murder

**A/N: Skins is one of my favorite episodes, which is probably why I jumped into this episode so fast after finishing the last one. I never cared for Bloody Mary much.**

**Yes, I realize that Susan is the name Alex gave for the "family friend" several chapters back, but it's also the name of Justin's older mathematical friends in Movies, so I get to use it twice.**

11-Skins (Friends Don't Let Friends Commit Murder)

Justin's not sure where they are. They drove through several nameless towns after leaving Toledo, following a weak lead that is probably nothing but could be something more, and now they're on the outskirts of yet another tiny city, pulled over on the side of the road to stretch their legs.

"God," Alex groans, arms above her head as she stretches out her back, green shirt riding up slightly to expose a stripe of caramel skin before she lowers her arms back down.

"Want me to drive for a little while?" His sister nods, tossing him the keys with barely a glance his way. They climb back in, Justin's lower back protesting moving back into a sitting position so soon.

His cell phone buzzes in his pocket as he's pulling back onto the highway, his hands jerking on the wheel for a moment in surprise before he awkwardly reaches into his back pocket to fish out his vibrating phone.

A frown mars his features as he looks at the name printed across the small screen before he flips it open and presses it to his ear. "Hello?"

_"Justin? Hey, it's me. Susan." _The voice through the phone is soft, sad and laced with a false neutrality.

"What's wrong?" Alex shoots him a look at his question, her curiosity having been piqued when his phone rang. Non-hunt related calls were rare, and Justin hadn't received a call from his college friends since that first week following Juliet's death when anything beyond an e-mail was unwanted and inconvenient.

_"It's Zeke." _Her words rush quicker now, her voice betraying her desperation and angry sorrow. _"He's been arrested. They're saying he killed Amanda. The cops have evidence and everything. But, God, Justin, you know Zeke. He couldn't do that. He's not a killer."_

"What?" Justin has no idea who Amanda is, but he's known Zeke since his freshman year at Stanford, the excitable young man having lived down the hall from him. "Why would they suspect Zeke?" He heaves a sigh, eyes already searching for an exit so they could get onto an interstate. "I'm several days out from California, but I'll-"

_"We're in St. Louis," _Susan cuts in, her voice having evened out a little,_ "Winter break. I have family here." _He felt a small amount of shock go through him as he realized it was only December, his life at Stanford seeming like a lifetime ago, as well as a small twinge of guilt.

Zeke lost his parents years ago in a messy car crash, and he and Justin would often spend the holidays together, Justin's family being on the road and not the type to ever celebrate much of anything beyond a successful hunt and being alive. Plus his father and him not being on speaking terms didn't help.

"I'll be there tonight." He snaps his fingers at his sister who was giving him a questioning stare, indicating for her start writing. "What's the address?" He rattles off Susan's words, watching his sister mark them down on the back of a white paper napkin before saying good-bye and hanging up.

"So, who's Susan?" Alex says without preamble the moment his phone snaps shut.

"A friend from Stanford. Zeke, another friend, was arrested for murder."

She lets out a low whistle. "Those are some friends you have." Her voice is all light tease, underlined with what seems like fear and anger, but he can't be sure. He shoots her a look out of the corner of his eyes, her lips twisted in a small unpleasant smile.

"Zeke's not capable of killing," he says slowly, trying to convey without words that this isn't a social visit, he's not preparing to run off to join his college buddies and leave behind his little sister and brother. Not again. "I think we should check it out. See if there's something the cops missed, or maybe if this is more in our area of expertise."

Alex gives him a long look, seeming to try and judge his sincerity by studying his face. Whatever she sees must satisfy her worries because she relaxes, her smile this time more genuine as she turns back to the road.

"Well," she says, looking down at the address, "we're already in Missouri. Guess it can't hurt to check it out."

"Road trip!" hollers Max from the backseat.

* * *

Susan answers the door of the apartment after the first knock, throwing her arms around Justin the moment she sees him.

"I'm so glad you came," she breathes, pulling away. "I was worried you wouldn't, what with Juliet-" She pauses a moment, making a half aborted awkward movement with her hands before she steps back and opens the door wider. "Come in. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks. Um, this is Alex and Max," he gestures to his siblings, Alex taking in the other girl's appearance while Max plays with a pen he found on the side walk.

Susan's a tall girl, not quite as tall as Justin, but almost a head above Alex, her blonde hair kept straight and ending just below her shoulder blades. Her eyes are red from crying but she nods in greeting with a grave smile and firm set to her shoulders.

"Nice to meet you." She turns to face Justin once more. "Zeke didn't do it."

"I know." And he does. Just as he knows that Max has his own brand of thinking and his sister would kill for family, he knows Zeke, and his best friend just isn't capable of murder. "What happened?"

"Zeke was supposed to pick Amanda up at seven-"

He stops her, left hand extended slightly asking for pause. "Who's Amanda?"

"This girl he's been seeing. He met her over Thanksgiving break." Justin makes a mental note to check his e-mail the next time he has access to the internet, knowing that Zeke must have mentioned her in one of his messages, and that it's been several weeks since he's checked his inbox. "He was supposed to be there at seven, but when he got there, there wasn't an answer. He went in, and he found her tied to a chair. She wasn't breathing. He called the police, and when they got there they- they arrested him." She lets out a frustrated sigh, fingers of one hand coming up to run through her hair. "They say they have him on video, a security camera across the street, going into her building at 4:45. But he was with me, we were shopping. He left the mall at like 6:30 to go pick her up."

He nods, Susan's shopping trips were long and tedious, taking all day, and both Justin and Zeke had been subjected to more than one of them over their years at Stanford.

"Can we see the tape?" Alex asks, leaning against the back of a dark blue couch.

"I can ask Zeke's lawyer." Susan moves further into the room, taking a seat at the couch's matching chair, Justin, Alex and Max following behind and taking seats.

"What about Amanda's place?" he asks once he's settled on the couch, "We'd like to get a look at that."

"Amanda lives a couple neighborhoods over. Zeke would sometimes walk to her house if the weather was warm enough. Parking isn't the easiest thing in St. Louis. But I think it's still a crime scene."

"Of course." Justin nods, reassuring smile crossing his features. "Can we get the address, though? So we can at least drive by. I just want to help." He long ago stopped feeling bad about lying to his friends, the details of his life before Stanford not being something he could share.

Susan rattles off the address, Justin jotting it down quickly on a small pad of paper he keeps on the inside of his coat to use during their facades as reporters or police officers.

"Thanks," he said, putting away the notepad, "we're going to look for a hotel, but-"

"Nonsense. You're staying here." She moves her hands at him in a dismissive gesture when he opens his mouth to protest. "What are friends for? Now," she stands up, moving down a small hallway and heading towards a plain brown door, "I only have one spare bedroom, but the couch is comfortable, and I can probably crash with my parents if need be."

She opens the door, revealing a messy queen size bed, a couple of items of clothing scattered on the floor. "It's Zeke's," Susan says by way of explanation, "I'll move his stuff."

She goes to take a step into the room when Justin stops her. "We have a few errands we need to run. We'll be back later." Susan nods, walking them to the door and giving him a quick hug with her good bye on their way out.

It's a short drive to the crime scene, but it takes much longer to find a parking spot, Alex finally finding a tight fitting spot a couple houses down, ignoring the parking meter as she gets out and heads down the street.

Doesn't take long to pick the lock, all three of them ducking the yellow police tape, crossing the doorway and slipping inside. There's blood splattered throughout the room, focused heavily around the chair sitting in the middle of the modest living room-kitchen combo. There's a trail of blood leading to the sink, dried red-brown smears cover the inside of the white porcelain where the weapon was tossed before being collected by the crime scene investigators.

"Whoever did this was angry," Alex says, motioning to the blood splatter along the wall. "And they took their time."

Justin nods, carefully stepping over the trails of blood scattered over the carpet like a twisted spider's web, Max studying the smattering of red drops on the kitchen table. There's a dark handprint on the surface, palm smeared, but the fingerprints are clear enough to make a match. They don't bother telling their little brother to be careful, Dad having drilled it into their heads how to be especially cautious around a crime scene, not wanting to leave their own evidence behind and get the police on their trail.

The mess is limited to the one room, no signs of a struggle in any others. Even the front door is without a mark beyond a stray drop of blood near the knob; either the assailant had a key or Amanda let them in.

He turns at the sound of a hum, seeing Alex with the EMF reader held out in her hand, the device quiet after the initial start-up noise. She moves around the room, focusing on the chair, but still the reader remains stubbornly silent.

"Whatever it is, it's gone now," she says after a few moments.

"I don't think we're going to find anything here," Justin adds, tugging Max's sleeve as he heads to the door.

They head back to the car, a yellow parking ticket that Alex quickly wads up and tosses onto the sidewalk stuck under the windshield wiper before they climb back in and make their way back to Susan's apartment.

When they get there, she's got the spare room picked up, the bed sheets changed and Zeke's clothes back into the dresser and closet. There are extra blankets and pillows on the couch, ready for whoever will sleep there tonight.

"I wish I had another bed for you." She's running around, playing hostesses as best she can, throwing together a modest dinner of sandwiches with beer and sodas. Justin tries to not to frown as both his younger siblings grab up bottles of Corona, knowing nothing he says will stop them. Their work is done for tonight, and there's no reason they can't each have a drink beyond their ages.

"It's fine," replies Justin, shooting her a grin, "I can take the couch."

Susan's face scrunches in confusion, blinking at him for a moment as she looks between the siblings, but she keeps her mouth shut.

"You're not going to make me share with Max?" Alex complains, taking a swig of her beer to wash down her bite.

Their little brother makes a grunt at the comment, rolling his eyes as he takes large bite of his sandwich before asking, "Do you have any peanut butter?"

The look of confusion deepens on Susan's face before she gets up and starts hunting through the kitchen cabinets.

"Just make sure he has a shower tonight." He levels a look at his little brother just as Susan comes back in, peanut butter jar and butter knife in one hand.

"Why can't he take the couch?" Alex suggests, taking another bite of her sandwich.

Justin rolls his eyes, conceding to her wishes as he takes the utensil now covered in peanut butter from his little brother and taking it to the sink.

"You guys are really close." Susan is leaning against the counter next to him, head tilted to the side as she glances back at his siblings.

He shrugs, rubbing at a stubborn bit of the creamy substance from the blade. "I guess." They have to be, they rely on each other, during hunts, to bail each other out, to always have each other's backs. Justin can't even count the number of parent teacher conferences he attended in place of Dad, or how many times he's barely escaped major injury or death because of quick thinking on Alex or Max's part.

"I couldn't imagine sharing a room with my brother, let alone a bed." An amused smile crosses her face, and Justin takes a moment to think about it. He has no memory of ever having his own bedroom, his life filled with an endless string motel rooms with two queen size beds for his family to share, Max usually having to double up with their dad because Alex spent those first few years after Mom died refusing to go to sleep unless Justin was beside her.

He gives a small shrug before tossing the knife down as he turns and makes his way back to his younger siblings.

* * *

He's too hot when he wakes up the next morning, Alex having shoved the extra heavy comforter towards his side of the bed during the night. He wiggles out from under the blankets, trying not to disturb his sister as he makes his way out of the room.

The TV is on in the living room, Max and Susan watching the news with rapt attention. His curiosity gets the better of him, his younger brother having a tendency to go towards morning cartoons making him wonder what's so interesting when he hears the local news anchor.

_"…was badly beaten her in home last night by her husband. Police found her tied to a chair with severe knife wounds to her arms and legs as well as abdomen. The man, Alan Slatten, claims to have been driving home at the time of the attack, and that he arrived at their apartment to find a man with his face brutally beating his wife. No word yet on whether the police are…"_

He turns quickly, ignoring Susan's greeting as he rushes back to the bedroom.

One hand reaches out to shake his sister awake, Alex jerking under his touch and slamming a bony elbow into his chest. Justin rubs the spot as his sister glares at him.

"What?" she hisses, using her hand to push her messy hair out of her face.

"There was another attack last night. Same M.O. Guy comes home to find his significant other tied to a chair with knife wounds and having been beaten. I'm thinking we have a shape shifter on our hands." He has to fight to keep his voice from rising, not wanting to alert Susan in the next room.

"And you woke me up to tell me this because….?"

"This means Zeke is innocent!" he practically shouts. "He didn't do it, something else with his face did it. I first I thought it might be a Dark Double, but with the second attack, the style of attack, that would mean the same-"

She cuts him off with a, "Justin," one hand held up in a request for silence. "This doesn't really change anything. All this means is that we have to use the silver bullets and kill this son of a bitch before he hurts anyone else. It's not going to get Zeke off." She takes him in, obviously noting the defeat coming over him as he realizes the truth of her words and is quick to add, "This doesn't mean that the lawyers can't prove him innocent some other way. He still has his alibi with Susan, and I'm sure we can find some evidence that makes it seem like Zeke was set up. Even plant something at the crime scene or something. Worse comes to worse he'll plead out and get 15 years. Or," she adds when he shoots her a pointed look, "we can bust him out. I'm sure Uncle Kelbo can whip him up a new identity."

He ignores her words, knowing that she's generally trying to help, he moves around the room for his bag. "We should get going. I wanna check out the new place. See if there's anything that can lead us back to the shape shifter."

Alex grumbles as she crawls from under the covers, scratching absently at her exposed thigh and drawing Justin's attention to the pair of worn boxers his sister slept in. He should probably say something about her new habit of sleeping in his clothes, but something stops him, keeps him from asking for the garments back as he pulls a pair of jeans on and tugs a sweater from his duffle bag.

The smell of coffee, freshly brewed and not from a fast food place or convenience store, reaches him as he opens the bedroom door, coming out to find Max still on the couch, TV turned to cartoons and Susan nowhere in sight.

He finds her in the kitchen, setting out boxes of breakfast cereal and pop tarts. "You can help yourself to whatever you want," she says by way of greeting, her fingers twirling as she indicates to the food on the counter. "I'm heading over to the lawyer's office today to see about getting my hands on that tape."

He nods, snatching up a strawberry pop tart from the counter and opening the package before saying, "We'll might go out for a little bit, so if we're not here when you get back, just give me a call."

Max walks in, grabbing a bowl and pouring two different cereals into it before adding orange juice, and Justin smiles at Susan's wide-eyed look of disbelief at his little brother's odd taste before she says her good-byes and heads out.

Justin is pouring himself a cup of coffee when Alex comes in, hair brushed into place and dressed. He hands her a cup and indicates the sugar and creamer sitting by the coffee pot before leaning against the counter and sharing the plan to check out the new place for any further evidence.

One of us should stay here and review the tape when Susan gets back," he adds, draining the last of his coffee and rinsing the cup out.

Alex raises one hand as she spoons sugar into her coffee, indicating that she'll be the one to stay behind and Justin nods, looking up the address to the latest attack while waiting on Max to finish his cereal. He rinses his little brother's bowl out before grabbing the keys from the bedroom.

They issue quick good-byes to Alex and head out the door, Justin getting in the driver's side and pulling out onto the road while wincing as his sister's strange brand of music fills the vehicle and quickly flipping it to the radio.

He makes a point to grab badges for both him and Max when they get to the Slatten's apartment, going for lower level detectives over FBI since neither hunter bothered putting on a suit this morning, and pulling the magazine filled with silver bullets out of the trunk and loading them into their guns. He tucks the weapon into the back of his jeans as his brother does the same.

There's police tape in front of the door that they ignore, making a quick check for witnesses before picking the lock and ducking inside.

Max finds the chair Mrs. Slatten was tied to in the bedroom, same messy trails of blood surrounding it. There's a smashed coffee table in the living room where Alan claimed the attacker knocked him unconscious, but the front door is unmarked just as before.

"Looks like this is our guy," Justin says, stepping carefully over what looks to be one of the wooden legs that belonged to the now destroyed coffee table as he makes his way around the living room. A smear of red catches his eye as he draws closer to the window leading out to the fire escape; several smudges just under the wooden edge where you'd grab to open it. "He went out this way." He gestures to the marks for Max, carefully using the curtain to open the window, and steps out onto the fire escape.

Max follows him out, shutting the window behind him, and the two of them follow the trail of blood and scuff marks from the shape shifter's shoes as they make their way down the metal ladders to the ground below, landing in the alley behind the apartment complex.

"Where did he go from here?" Trails in large cities are much harder to follow, or perhaps it's the lack of training they've had in bigger cities, but Justin can see no sign of the shape shifter beyond a few feet from the base of the last ladder.

"Maybe he can fly," Max replies, head craned up to look at the bright sky.

Justin follows his gaze, finger loosely pointing upward before following his eye line as he slowly drops it.

"Or maybe he went down." His gaze comes to rest on a man-hole cover just a few steps from where the trail ended.

They exchange glances, smile tugging the corner of Justin's mouth as the make their way over. Just as their hands are reaching for the heavy metal covering, Justin's cell phone goes off, a quick glance at the screen revealing Alex's name.

"Y'ello," he chirps happily in greeting.

_"God, you're still doing that?" _She makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, and Justin rolls his eyes in affection._ "Whatever, I watched the video, and there's definitely something wrong with the Zeke in it. His eyes flashed weirdly, almost like a cats when you shine a light on them in the dark."_

"Could be a sign of a shape shifter, a bit of them peaking out when the light is right or something."

_"Yeah, I figured that out, doofus. But I was thinking that Zeke's lawyers may be able to use that to get him off." _Her voice rises slightly in excitement, losing the sarcastic bite as she shares her idea with him. _"It's obviously not normal for eyes to do that, so maybe they can say the tape was messed with or something. At least give the jury some reasonable doubt."_

"Reasonable doubt?" he says with a snicker.

_"Hey, I watch TV. I've seen those legal shows. And you never know when you won't be able to talk your way out of getting your ass arrested," _she grumbles, and Justin fights to control the smile that's been growing ever since he realized his sister was looking for a way to help his friend. One that didn't involve them forging new identification papers.

"You know I'd bust you out long before you ever went to trial," he says, letting her hear the grin in his voice.

There's a pause, and then Alex says with casual nonchalance, _"Well, you weren't always there. Girl's gotta be prepared, you know?"_

The guilt is there again, sharp in his stomach as he thinks of his sister needing him, of him not being there for her because he wanted a normal life, wanted to _be_ normal_._ "Alex-"

_"Listen," _she cuts in, brushing him off before he gets a chance to apologize, _"I gotta go. Susan's getting ready to start lunch, and you know I can't pass up a free meal."_

"Yeah, ok." His voice is soft, previous good mood dampened considerably. "See you in a bit."

_"Later."_

He shuts the phone with a click, looking up to see Max watching him with a distracted look, and he snaps his fingers under his brother's nose to get his attention, pointing to the manhole cover when his little brother snaps his fingers in response.

The sewer is dark but, lucky for them, no longer in use. The floor is damp from leaking rain water and being underground, but the trail is heavier here. The footprints are more readable on the moist concrete, and they follow it down the tunnel.

It's not long until they come to a turn off, a wet mess of an unidentifiable substance at the entrance, and Justin bends down to get a closer look, Max beside him.

"Is that…?" his little brother asks, reaching out one finger to scoop up a dripping mass of hair and congealed liquid.

It hits Justin as he begins to make out the thick fluid, what looks to be a melted ear and transparent peachy toned swirls with more dark hair.

"I think," he says slowly, "that when the shape shifter changes, it sheds."

His left hand darts out as Max brings his finger up to his mouth, tongue already partway out to taste, a disgusted look on Justin's face. He pulls his brother to his feet and looks down the tunnels, cursing his oversight in not bringing a flashlight.

He steps over the remains of the shifter's last shed, heading down the turnoff, Max trailing behind him as they make their way through the tunnel, following the trail of faint shoeprints.

They come upon an open area, more sloppy, shedded skin and piles of clothes abandoned around the square concrete room.

"Home sweet home," mutters Max, and Justin turns to reply, but his eyes land on a figure a couple steps behind his brother.

"Max!" The word is barely out of his mouth before his brother is whirling around. Justin recognizes the face of the figure from the pictures in the Slatten's apartment. It's quick, one arm coming out to slam Max hard into the cement wall, before it turns and runs. Justin barely has time to pull out his weapon, firing at the fleeing figure twice before he's too far away to get a clear shot.

He leans down to help his brother up, but Max shrugs him off, standing quickly and indicating the path where the shifter is disappearing. "Don't him get away."

Justin takes off, hearing Max running a few steps behind him, breath coming harsher than normal, and Justin makes a mental note to check his brother for bruised ribs when they get back to Susan's.

Justin follows the shifter at a run, only catching flashes of its back, not enough to get a clear shot, before he finally sees it disappear up a ladder toward another manhole cover and follows close behind. It's only as he comes up out of the ground, seeing the slightly crowded park around him and the shifter nowhere in sight that he realizes Max is no longer behind them.

Letting out a curse for allowing the hunt to distract him, Justin makes his way back to the car, knowing Max will meet him there, and hoping his little brother doesn't have a cracked rib.

The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon as he comes up on the Impala, glancing around and not seeing his brother.

Max comes jogging up a few second later, smiling at Justin as he crosses the street. "Did you get him?"

"No," he says with a sigh, letting frustration come now that he knows Max is ok. "I lost him in the park."

"Bad luck. But hey, next time." He gives Justin another grin. "Let's head back. Maybe Alex will have an idea." Max heads around to the trunk of the car, chuckling to himself at something amusing only he knows.

Justin nods, one hand moving back to wrap around the gun he tucked back into the waistband of his jeans when he surfaced. He takes two steps forward, coming around to the trunk before lifting the gun and leveling it at the thing at the end of the barrel with his brother's face.

"Where the hell is my brother?" His voice is low, eyes level with the shifter who stares at him with an unsure expression.

"Justin, man, it's me." Hands come up to indicate himself.

"Where. Is. My. Brother," Justin bites out, jaw clenching.

"I am your brother." He lifts his arms to his side before dropping them back down. "But if you don't believe me-" one hand comes up quickly as the shifter takes two steps forward, snapping against his wrist in a move designed to knock the weapon from his grasp, before there's a shooting of pain in the side of Justin's head and everything goes black.

**A/N: Mwahahaha, yes, I'm evil. **


	13. Blood Is Thicker Than Water

**A/N: The beginning of this is from Justin's point of view. Why? Because the ending was too perfect to pass up, I'd reached my word limit in the last chapter and this one was going to be short if I just did it from Alex's.**

**Warnings: Dirty words ahead. Let me know if I need to up the rating.**

12-Skins (Blood Is Thicker Than Water)

Justin wakes to a pounding headache, one arm attempting to reach up to check his temple for injuries where it's most tender before he realizes he's been restrained. His hands are tied behind him, around the metal pillar at his back. There's more rope around his chest and biceps, and a stool under him has each of his ankles bound to the front legs. He opens his eyes slowly, taking in the cement room in which he's been placed. It's in the sewers, not the same lair that they figured for the shape shifter's main living quarters, but similar.

He struggles, testing the limits of the rope before he sees the shifter still wearing his brother's identity coming around in front of him. The grin twisting its lips is so similar to Max's, but there's something off there, a darkness in it where Max's had always been pure enjoyment.

"Where's my br-"

A hand catches him across the face, a rough backhand smack that leaves his cheek stinging and hot. He turns back to see the same dark happiness that he imagines was on the imitation of Zeke as it cut into Amanda.

"Don't worry about him," the thing says like they're having an everyday conversation. "Man," it mutters as it moves around the room, gathering up a couple of knives Justin recognizes as coming from the trunk of the Impala, "the more I learn about your family." It shakes its head, Max's shaggy hair falling into its face. "I thought I had it bad." A hand comes up, pressing against its forehead, head tilted to the side and eyes closed.

"He's pissed at you," it mutters after a moment, opening its eyes to look to Justin. "You _left _him." It moves closer, and even its stride is the same as Max's, a perfect imitation except for the dark look in its eyes, the twisted-ness within peeking out through the copy of his brother's face.

"You left us." It steps closer, coming to stand directly in front of Justin. "You think Alex was up for the challenge of raising me on her own? Of taking care of Dad? She was _sixteen _and you know Dad lived on pretty much a diet of Jack and bourbon."

Justin does his best to ignore the guilt, to keep it from showing on his face, training kicking in as he files away bits of information for later, that it knows this about Max. Perhaps when the shifter is imitating someone it's connected, able to psychically link and pull memories. "Where's my brother?"

"It hurt Alex the most," the thing continues as if Justin hadn't said a word. "She'd cry at night, thinking you left because of her, and I knew I couldn't do anything to make her feel better. You two," it smiles, flashing white teeth, "you were always so close. I didn't mind." It takes a half step back, fingers coming up to brush against Max's shirt, and Justin really wishes it'd stop referring to Max like it is his little brother, "I didn't need you two the way you needed each other."

It pauses, head titling to the side. "I always wondered. Some when we were young, but even more so after you came back, and I gotta know." Its grin goes up a notch, something dirty coming into it that Justin had never seen on his brother's face. "Are you fucking our sister?"

Justin feels his face go hot, jaw clenching as the thing that looks like Max smirks at him, his face going hard as he repeats the question, "Where is my brother?"

"Not that I can blame you," it continues, still ignoring Justin's words. "If she wasn't my sister…" It looks away for a moment, eyes unfocused as a naughty grin comes across its face. "Think if I wear your face she'd spread those pretty thighs for me?"

Justin bites back an angry retort, teeth gritting together so hard the pounding in his head intensifies.

"Oh, relax." It rolls its eyes, focusing once more on the man bound before it. "She's my sister. I may be many things, but dude, that's just _wrong._ But then again," it tilts its head to the side, eyes closing once more as its hand presses to the side of its temple, "Max doesn't seem to have an issue with his siblings doing naughty things behind his back. But," its eyes open to look at Justin with a darkly gleeful expression, "Max has his own secrets. He has dreams you know. I- _I _have dreams. I dreamt of that pretty little blonde you had back at college." It chuckles low and unpleasant, and Justin's stomach twists, eyes coming up to stare at the thing before him. "Oh, I dreamt of her long before we came for you. Of the demon that killed our mom coming to her, pinning her to the wall. She screamed, you know, when he stuck her to the ceiling, when he gutted her open like an animal and left her there for you. I saw you on the bed, screaming her name while the room burned around the both of you. I watched you _die_, burn up in a room that had your girlfriend's dead body in it."

Justin stares in mute shock, listening to the thing speak, memories coming to the surface of secret looks between his siblings, of Alex evading his question on how they knew to come back for him the night Juliet was killed.

"And that night when you went back, leaving us _again, _I dreamt it then, as well, and woke up to find you gone." A shudder runs through its body, seeming to be disturb by the memory.

The knowledge that Alex and Max had been keeping something from him, how Justin had brushed it off as unimportant, believing Alex would tell him in time, and the irritation that there was something his sister wasn't telling him - it all clicks into place with this final piece.

"Well," it says, turning away and heading towards what Justin assumes is the exit, "Alex may be off limits, but let's see how Susan takes to me." It shoots a dark grin over its shoulder before turning back and disappearing into the tunnels.

Justin starts wiggling the moment the shifter is out of sight, hoping that either Max's obliviousness to facts was also transferred to the thing or that his little brother hadn't noticed that Justin had gotten back into the habit of caring a spare blade in his boot.

There's a bar on the stool he's sitting on, keeping him from raising his leg high enough to get his fingers into the leather, but that doesn't stop him from attempting, testing the limits of his reach. He's only been trying for roughly ten minutes, having moved to attempting to loosen the metal bar so he can break his foot through, when he hears a grunt come behind him, a muffled groan followed by the rustling of fabric on concrete.

"Max?"

"Oh, man. I'm tied up again." The voice and pout is all Max, and Justin can't help but let out a relieved chuckle.

"Can you get free?" he asks, already slipping back into the hunt, needing to get loose and warn Alex who's no doubt still at Susan's. He pushes his questions on his brother's seemingly prophetic dream aside. He can hear shuffling behind him, his brother grunting in effort.

"The ropes are too tight," Max says after a bit, and Justin catches his brother wiggling into view out of the corner of his eye. The other hunter's hands are bound behind his back, feet tied together, wearing nothing but his white shirt and boxers.

"Can you sit up?" Justin asks, noting the shortening distance between Max and his left boot.

His brother nods, struggling into a sitting position as Justin instructs him to turn so his back is towards him and back up. Max pulls the blade from his boot shortly after his hands brush the leather, immediately turning the knife to cut the ropes binding his wrists. He works on the rope bounding his ankles together next before standing and cutting Justin loose.

"Don't suppose you still have your cell on you?"

Max pulls the collar of his undershirt out, glancing down before shaking his head no, and Justin doesn't bother to ask, turning to head out the same exit the shifter went through, his little brother following close behind.

* * *

Alex fights the worry steadily growing as it gets darker, focusing instead on the revenge she's going to take if her brothers went after the shape shifter without her.

"Do you think they'll be much longer?" Susan asks, pulling out a few options to consider for dinner.

Alex shrugs, going for nonchalance as she taps her fingers lightly against her thigh. "Knowing my little brother, Max is probably dragging Justin to every tourist trap in the city." It's a lie, but the less Susan knows, the better.

There's a knock on the door, an off rhythm that brings a half smile to Alex's face, and she is quickly on her feet and heading towards the front door.

"Max," she greets, giving her brother a glare for worrying her. She glances behind him, eyes searching the empty hallway before turning back to her baby brother. "Where's Justin?"

Max's eyebrows come together in confusion. "He's not here?"

She moves to the side, letting her brother in as her worry spikes.

"He didn't meet me back at the car," he answers her unspoken question. "I thought maybe he came here."

A frown mars her features, unease coming on strong and she takes a subconscious step back from Max before turning and grabbing her jacket.

"Keys." She holds her hand out absently, catching the ring her brother tosses her and heading towards the door. "I'm going to look for him. Stay with Susan."

A smile grows on his face, a familiar "Max grin". But there's something else there, a dark undertone she's never seen before, and her unease grows as she walks out the door, shutting it behind her.

She heads down the stairs, finding the car out front, the instinct telling her to go back being overridden by the desire to find Justin and make sure he's ok. _Max can handle anything that would show up here, _she reasons, climbing into the driver's side and starting up the car.

The radio is on, and Alex rolls her eyes, hand reaching out to switch it back to CD when her cell phone goes off, a quick glance at the screen showing an unknown local number.

"Hello?"

_"Oh thank God. Alex, you-"_

"What the hell, Justin?" She practically shouts into the phone, her earlier worry turning into aggravation now that she knows he's ok. "Where the f-"

_"There's no time to explain. Are you with Susan?"_

She grits her teeth, putting away her tirade for another time as the panic in her brother's tone. "I just left her place. Why?"

_"The shifter, it looks like Max. It's going after Susan."_

"Shit," she hisses, adrenaline pumping as she yanks her keys from the ignition, shoving open the door and running back into the building. "I just left him with her."

Her brother lets out a string of curses, and she can hear someone, probably Max, stifle a snicker in the background. _"We're on our way!"_

They hang up without good-byes, Alex rushing up the stairs as fast as she can and skidding to a stop at Susan's door, one booted foot coming out to land a hard kick next to the knob. She's never had and never will have the strength her brothers possess to ram her shoulder into a door and bust it open, but a good solid kick in the right spot on most doors will get her in where she needs to be.

The wood in the frame splinters, and Alex hears the sounds of a struggle and muffled cries as she rushes into the apartment, finding Susan in the kitchen trying to fight off that thing with Max's face. It has one hand wrapped around Susan's wrists while the other secures a long piece of rope around them. The blonde is sporting a bloody lip, hair a mess as she fights the losing battle to get free of her attacker.

Alex moves forward without thought, jerking the thing back by the shoulder and moving between it and Susan. It reacts quickly, grasping her arm and jerking Alex around to slam against the cabinets, and she notes absently that it's way stronger than it should be as her forehead makes contact with a wooden cupboard.

The sound of police sirens fill the air, and it freezes, jerking back from the fight before turning and rushing into the living room and out a window, several officers coming through the door as it disappears down the fire escape.

"Oh my god," Susan moans, dropping to the kitchen floor and beginning to cry loudly. Uniformed policemen rush in, surrounding them as others head after the thing with her brother's face, and Alex realizes for the first time how this looks, how Susan is going to perceive it and tell the police.

"That wasn't Max," she says quickly, hoping the blonde hears her. The other woman just shoots her a teary look, and Alex knows her plea is lost before she even tries. She moves quickly while the officers are busy with Susan, sneaking out the door and down the steps before they stop her to take her statement, heading to the car and pulling out her keys. She's down the road before the adrenaline in her veins begins to settle, mind racing as she tries to figure out what to do.

First things first, she has to find her brothers, they need to regroup, replan, find a way to find the shape shifter again and kill it. She pulls into a restaurant a couple blocks over, unsure how much time she has until the police or Susan realize she's missing.

"Can I get a phonebook, please?" She shoots the hostess a smile, hoping her appearance isn't too distressed as to be remembered if the police follow her here.

The girl, no more than seventeen, smiles as she hands over the thick yellow and white paperback, and Alex wastes no time flipping through to the motels, finding the first one listed and using the hostess' pen and a napkin to write down the location.

It takes her almost half an hour to drive to it, biting her bottom lip in worry when room nineteen is available, and she frets for almost an hour before there's a knock on her door, a quick glance out the window revealing her brothers standing on the other side.

She opens the door quickly, taking in Max's appearance as she lets them inside and raising her eyebrow in question.

"Shape shifter took his clothes and our wallets."

"You couldn't have stolen him a pair of pants?" She asks, indicating her little brother's bright yellow and green boxers as she shuts the door. "Or some shoes?"

Justin gives her a displeased look, the one he always got when they resorted to shoplifting, and Alex still doesn't understand his discomfort; it's no different than the credit cards, they don't actually pay for any of the stuff they get with the plastic. _"But the stores still get the money." _he'd always say when she'd bring it up, "_It's the credit card companies who lose out."_

"What now?" Alex asks, turning back to the room, "I left all of our clothes back at Susan's, and we can't go chasing after the shape shifter with Max dressed like that. And I don't think we should be splitting up again."

"She ok?" Justin asks, pacing around the room.

"Yeah, I got there just as it was tying her up. Got a busted lip, and I'm pretty sure she's taking you off her friends list, but overall she'll be fine." She sits heavily on one of the beds, the adrenaline high finally coming down and leaving her exhausted. "The police got a good look at Max, though. They're going to be looking for him."

Her little brother takes this in stride, nodding like he always expected to one day being wanted for attempted murder, and the thought disturbs her less than it should.

"We have weapons," her big brother suggests, but even he sounds unsure. "We can head back into the sewers tonight, see if we can catch the thing when it comes back."

She stifles a yawn, nodding slowly as she rubs her eyes before replying, "But what about Max? He can't go like that." Only once had Alex been forced to hunt in nothing but a tank top and underwear, but even then she had a pair of sneakers. That had been an interesting one to explain to Dad when she'd gotten back to the motel. "And the police probably won't leave Susan's until morning."

Justin heaves a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair and leaving it standing up and messy. "I hate the idea of waiting until morning. Especially with the police on Max's trail and that thing still out there."

In the end, it's decided they'll wait until morning, Alex setting her phone alarm for an ungodly hour so they can be up before dawn.

* * *

Justin opens the trunk when they're in the parking lot, the night still dark even with dawn only an hour away, pulling out a silver knife and the last remaining mag of silver bullets, dividing them among the three of them and loading their weapons. Alex grumbles as her big brother tells her that the shape shifter took the guns Justin and Max had on them; those weren't cheap.

She forces him to drive through a McDonalds, getting coffee to help wake them up before they head over to Susan's apartment.

He parks a few blocks away under a broken street lamp, making their way through the back alleys and into the building. This is the third time they've had to pick the lock to a crime scene, the three of them ducking through the door and moving quickly to the spare bedroom. The duffles are easy to find, still mostly packed, and Max wastes no time pulling out a pair of jeans and a fresh shirt from his.

Susan is standing in the hall when they walk out of the bedroom, eyes wide as she stares at the trio and phone clutched in one hand.

Everyone freezes, the blonde girl's eyes darting to each face until landing on Max's, Susan taking a half step back, eyes widening in fear.

Justin goes after her when she turns, catching her arm as Alex grabs their little brother's and pulls him back into the bedroom. She debates opening the window and getting her and Max out of there, but dismisses it almost as soon as they get into the room.

She can hear Justin and Susan talking in the other room, voices too muffled to make out the words, but her brother doesn't sound too frantic so she takes it the police haven't been involved any further.

It takes just long enough for Alex to start wishing they'd grabbed breakfast before they broke in, her stomach growling loudly as the voices die down. Alex opens the door slowly, indicating for Max to stay behind as she makes her way into the living room.

Her brother and Susan are standing a few steps apart, the blonde looking unsure and Justin lightly pleading.

"That still sounds pretty crazy," she says finally, and Alex notices the phone is on the coffee table, still within easy reach but at least out of her hands.

"All I'm asking is the chance to prove it." Her brother's voice is low, hands by his side as he leans against the back of a chair.

Susan pauses a moment, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, head turning away. Justin notices Alex standing in the hallway, and he heads her way, glancing every few moments over his shoulder to his friend.

"I think one of us should stay with her." At Alex's incredulous stare he continues, "She's still really shaken up. And I don't think she completely believes me that it wasn't Max that attacked her. Look," his left hand gets shoved into his back pocket as the other runs through his hair, "it won't hurt anything for you to be here. And the shape shifter might come back for-"

"Whoa, who said I was staying here? I already sat on the sidelines once. You stay." Her arms come up to cross over her chest, chin jutting out in defiance as Justin levels his gaze at her.

"You don't know where that thing's lair is. And I don't think she'd be comfortable staying here with Max."

Alex grits her teeth in frustration, looking away as she concedes his point. She doesn't trust Max to lead her through the sewers, her little brother varying between only needing to be in a town once and having the whole place memorized, to spending hours on end in a single three room building and still getting lost every time he enters.

"Take this." He hands her the silver blade, and Alex fights to keep from rolling her eyes. "Just in case."

"Not like I'll need it," she grumbles, but her brother doesn't respond, disappearing into the bedroom. They'll go out the window, so she doesn't have to worry about calming Susan while they use the front door. Alex tucks the knife into the boot before walking further into the living room.

Susan shifts awkwardly, not meeting Alex's gaze, only darting little looks at her out of the corner of her eye before she awkwardly sits down in one of the chairs. She seems off, but the hunter supposes being attacked by one of your good friend's brother's would do that to you.

"So," she says after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, "you guys hunt shifters often?"

"No," Alex shrugs, settling herself down on the couch, "not really." Truth be told, they've never hunted anything like this particular breed. The occasional Skin-Walker, and Dad took down a werewolf in Montana when she was little, but someone or something shaping itself into another person is new. There's legends and stories of other hunters coming across them, but no one in their family has ever faced one. "But shifters are all the same; silver bullet to the heart and it's lights out."

"Oh." She bites her bottom lip again, Alex fighting down the feeling of discomfort steadily growing in her stomach before Susan abruptly stands. "I'm going to take a shower."

Alex just nods absently, staring at nothing while thinking, barely noticing the sounds of the shower starting. There's something not right about all this, or maybe she's just aggravated that she's been stuck on babysitting duty while her brothers get to hunt down the thing killing women in St. Louis.

She fetches a snack from the kitchen cabinet, replaying the conversation with Justin that got her staying behind, Susan standing off to the side, teeth digging into her bottom lip all going through her mind. It hits her when she's back in the living room, standing before the couch as the bit of unease she's felt since they walked out into the hall and saw Susan shifts into understanding.

The sounds of the shower is still going, but there's a faint creak behind her that has Alex dropping to the floor, narrowly avoiding the swinging crowbar aimed at her head. She whirls around, hand reaching into her boot and pulling the knife from within as she comes face to face with the shifter, once more with her little brother's face.

"What gave me away?" The grin spreads easily over its face, stance casual with the makeshift weapon swinging by its side.

"The lip," Alex says, standing smoothly as she adjust her weight, watching for the next move, "Susan busted her lip pretty badly when you attacked her." She can't stop the smirk from coming across her face, the tease from entering her voice, "Can't imitate an injury, can you?"

A hardness flickers across its features before Max's easy carefree smile comes back, and Alex hates that it can impersonate her brother so perfectly. The crowbar is switched to its left hand, Alex following the movement out of the corner of her eye, before its right goes behind its back, pulling out a gun from the waistband of its jeans.

"I hate to use this thing," it says, waving the nose of the weapon around lightly, and Alex notices that it's Max's. "It lacks the finesse, the beauty of a blade."

"If you had that," she says, indicating the gun with a nod of her head, "why didn't you just shoot us when you saw us in the hall?" They're circling each other slowly, neither taking their eyes from the other as they weigh their options, looking for an opening.

"Can't have Susan wanted for murder. Not when little brother is all set up, perfect to take the fall. The sister who stopped his play time with Susan," it gives her an unpleasant grin, "and then tried to convince Maxie to turn himself in. He reacts badly and…." It makes a gesture with the gun and she's almost believes him, but she grew up with Max, knows when her brother's lying, and this thing is copying him right down the lilt in its voice, the turn of its head.

"Or maybe you just knew you couldn't handle us all together."

Its face twists spitefully before it lunges, crowbar swinging around, and Alex steps forward, the hand holding her silver blade coming up to block at the wrist, the other snapping out to knock the gun from its grasp, a shot ringing out before it lets go.

_Rookie mistake, _she thinks, grinning internally as she swipes her knife downward, grazing its arm before dancing back, remembering the inhuman strength.

It moves after her, going on the offense as it swings the crowbar expertly at her head, and Alex makes notes that it seems to have gotten the rules, the training Dad had drilled into his children from childhood, but it lacks the skills, the know-how that comes with physically putting the training into action.

Alex steps back quickly, eyes trained on the swinging weapon as she fights to get ahead of its attacks, forced to stay on the defense. She backs into a chair, one hand reaching behind her to keep her from falling, and it moves in, swinging the crowbar downward. Her other arm moves up on instinct, forearm connecting with the thing's wrist. She twists her arm down, trying to capture its right hand under her arm, but its left fist comes up. The thing lands the punch to her jaw, head snapping back as she falls to the floor.

She lands hard on her backside, rolling on instinct to avoid the following swing downward, the crowbar leaving a large gouge in the apartment's hardwood floor. The hunter barely has time to pause before the crowbar is being swung again, creating a matching score and keeping Alex moving. She rolls quickly, keeping just ahead as swing after swing comes down mere inches from her head.

There's an opening as she turns again quickly, rolling over something she thinks may be the knife she dropped on her fall to the floor, and her left foot comes out for a swift, hard kick directly below the knee. Her right hand is sliding behind her in search of the knife handle as the shifter jerks back a step.

Her fingers curl around the butt of Max's fallen gun, pulling it around quickly and taking aim. She barely thinks about it as she looks into her little brother's face and squeezes the trigger twice. It jerks backwards, Max's confused look perfectly imitated as its fingers go slack, crowbar falling to the ground. It lets out a strangled cough, thin trail of blood coming out of the corner of its mouth, before it falls to its knees.

She watches her brother's eyes cloud over, unseeing as it lands lifelessly on the ground, and she falls back. Her jaw starts to hurt as the adrenaline numbing her body to the pain begins to fade. Other pains make themselves known as she stands, pushing herself to her knees before moving slowly to her feet. She curses the shifter when she goes to grab her phone, remembering that neither Justin or Max have a cell due to the shape shifter taking it when they were captured, and resigns herself to waiting it out.

* * *

Turns out some of Susan's neighbors are the responsible kind that call the cops when shots are heard, and Alex ends up high tailing it out of the apartment using the same bedroom window her brothers did a few hours before.

She hails a cab a couple miles away, using the last of her poker winnings to pay for the fair to the motel, trying her brothers cells every few minutes in hope one of them found their phone in the shifter's lair.

It's past lunch by the time her phone rings, an unknown number on the screen, and Alex pauses only a moment before answering.

_"What happened? News says Max Russo was killed." _She breathes a sigh of relief at the sound of Justin's voice.

"I'll explain when you get me. I'm at the motel."

They hang up without good-byes, Alex giving the room one last sweep for any lingering items while she waits.

The Chevy pulls up a few minutes later, and she runs out, shooing Max into the backseat as she climbs in the passenger side.

"The shifter was pretending to be Susan when we went to grab our stuff," she says without preamble, turning to hand Max back his gun as Justin pulls out onto the road.

"I figured that," Justin replies, getting on the highway so they can get out of town now that the job is complete.

"How?"

He looks sheepish and Alex shoots him a look. "The Susan I know would have been too shaken up to go back to her place. She would have stayed with her parents." Alex makes a mental note to call Susan's parent's home after they get out of town and find a payphone. "After I figured that out," he shrugs, "we came back to the surface only to see on the news that Max was dead."

She can see their little brother grinning in the backseat, like the entire thing greatly amuses him, and Alex shakes her head in fond affection, happy to have _her_ brother and not some cheap imitation. She shoves back the image of Max's lifeless face, his chest bloody from the gun in her hands, that brief horror at the thought that she'd just killed her brother. _That wasn't Max,_ she tells herself firmly, eyes running over her little brother once more in confirmation before she turns back to the road.

"Shape shifters," she declares finally, when St. Louis is behind them, "not something I wanna face again."

"We're going to have to get me and Max new phones. Didn't find them in the lair and Susan knows mine. Last thing we need is the police decided to track us down to ask us about Max." Alex nods, leaning back in her seat and feeling her eyes begin to droop. "And he'll probably need a new hair cut. I know they think he's dead, but better safe than sorry."

She makes a soft noise, Justin's voice in her ear and her little brother in the backseat lulling her into a sort of dream like place and it's not long before she's fallen asleep.

**A/N: I seem to be getting a lot of people interested in watching the show with my little story here. XD This both makes me squeal in excitement and worry. If you've never seen the show and you start watching it and you get past where the story is currently at, you'll get spoiled for upcoming things, which makes me sad. But at the same time, it's awesome and you should go watch it.**


	14. Worthy Of A Thousand Words

13-Provenance (Worthy Of A Thousand Words)

**A/N: Discovered another episode rearrange I had to do, but this one is much easier. :) **

They pull into a small town outside of Missouri to find a cheap barber shop and for Justin to call Susan's parents and confirm that she's there. Max puts up a bit of a fight at the idea of chopping off his hair, but a few well placed words from Alex has their little brother thinking it was all his own idea.

The cut makes him look older, pushing him past Alex in physical appearance of age, his shaggy locks now cut short at the nap of his neck and off his forehead and Justin approves of the new style immediately, already thinking about how much easier it'll be to convince people they are who they say they are.

Justin boots up his laptop the minute they get a motel for the night, Alex grumbling about needing to pick up a new batch of credit cards soon as he hacks into the St. Louis police database and checks out Max's file.

His brother is declared deceased, both Zeke and Alan having been cleared of all charges when traces from the body led police into its underground lair, both of the two men's clothes and the murder weapon that killed Amanda found there. The video featuring Zeke was said to have been tampered with due to the strange flashing of the eyes and Justin notes that Susan apparently took Alex's advice despite her belief that Max tried to kill her. Several other murder cases are being reopened when evidence from other murders was found in the lair that have the police wondering if Max might have been impersonating other men.

He's still studying the report, wondering absently if Max legally being "dead" will help or hurt their usual hunts, when Alex comes back in, several bags in hand.

His eyes catch on the bruise marring his sister's jaw line, the deep purple just starting to fade to more of a dark red and he frowns, hating that he wasn't there for her, that she got hurt for it.

"I got you and Max new phones." She toss each of them a bag. "Already put in my number." She shoots him a proud grin before setting a white food bag on the small table under the window.

They nod in thanks, Justin pulling out the new cell and flipping it open to get himself familiar with the device. It's much like his old one and a quick scan of his contacts has him noting that Uncle Kelbo, Max and Dad are programmed in as well. There's a general lack of his college friend's numbers, Alex not knowing them and the off chance that the police might be looking for him and his sister for further questioning having made it too dangerous for Justin to consider adding them.

He feels a stab of loss that Susan will never know of Max's innocence, that Zeke will go about his life thinking his best friend's brother killed his girlfriend. But then again, Zeke is a smart guy, maybe he'll put it together and realize that Max wasn't even in St. Louis when Amanda was killed. He really hates to think he lost his friends over-

His sister's fingers snap in front of his face, effectively cutting off his train of thought. "Earth to the J-man."

He focuses on Alex in time to catch her tossing him a paper wrapped hamburger, frowning slightly at the self-created nick-name that never quiet caught on in any of the schools they attended growing up.

"Eat up," she says, taking a bite of her own, "we gotta get going early tomorrow. Get as much road between us and Missouri as we can."

Justin nods, shutting his laptop and opening his hamburger, arranging his thoughts carefully before asking, "When were you going to tell me that Max has prophetic dreams?"

He can see Alex freeze out of the corner of his eye, his little brother looking over at him with a slightly guilty expression.

"Don't you think that's something I should have known?" His frustration over his sister having kept this from him grows as he goes on, looking up to find Alex staring at him with her arms crossed under her chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was hoping it was just a onetime thing!" She half-yells, brown eyes full of worry and the edges of panic. "That it doesn't happen again. A fluke and we wouldn't have had to mention it."

"Even if it was, you weren't going to tell me?" Justin stands, dropping his hamburger as he rises. "My little brother dreams of my girlfriend's death and you just decide that I don't need to know?"

Max opens his mouth before turning away, hands tucking into his pockets. "I-," he says finally. "She died and….I kinda feel that it's partially my fault."

Justin's shoulders drop as his frustration and angry abruptly fade. As much as he wants someone to blame for Juliet's death, it's the demon that did this, the demon that destroyed their family eighteen years ago and who took Juliet from him two months back. "It's not your fault." He looks at Max, seeing his little brother watching the ground before him before the younger man looks up, eyes locking with Justin's for a moment before one side of his mouth lifts in a small sad half-smile as Max nods.

"Wish you would have said something," he says turning back to Alex, "but I understand why you didn't." His sister, like their father, has always had trouble dealing with issues they couldn't fight. Anything that couldn't be fixed with a semi-automatic or some salt and a lighter was ignored in hopes that it'd go away and having a little brother with "powers" was beyond anything Alex was trained to deal with.

"No more secrets though," he says firmly, staring at both his siblings in turn until they nod, Alex a little reluctantly, before they turn back to their meal, Justin sharing what he's learned about how Max's case wrapped up in St. Louis.

"Is there a funeral?"

"Yes," Justin says slowly, turning to look at his little brother. "There was a state held funeral."

Max nods, looking off in thought for a moment before asking, "We're going, right?"

"Um, not sure it's the best idea to show up at your own funeral. Especially when you're thought to be a serial killer."

His brother pouts, looking far more disappointed that Justin deems entirely necessary, but he turns back the laptop, shutting the page on the shifter's crimes and opening a couple of fresh pages, looking up signs for any new hunts and leads on their father's whereabouts. Alex pulls out her phone to call up her contacts to see if any new information has been discovered and Max begins to clean the weapons rescued from the shifter's lair, the three falling into comfortable silence as they get back to their routine.

Dad's journal and three newspapers lay before him, the papers from different towns with different stories that have potential.

"I'm thinking this one." He tosses one of the folded papers in front of his sister, headline dictating a couple murdered in New York. "Mark and Anne Telesca were found dead in their homes. Both their throats were cut, no prints, no murder weapon, and all the doors and windows were locked from the inside."

A skeptical look crosses Alex's face as she swirls a curly fry through her ketchup. "Could just be an everyday murder. Humans can be pretty sick. That," she taps an article in a different paper, "has all the signs of a haunting."

"But," Justin replies, twirling the ledger around so his sister can see, "Dad wrote about similar murders happening in neighboring towns in upstate New York. Nineteen-twelve, nineteen-forty-five and nineteen-seventy. All with the same MO. Throats slit, no weapons, locked from the inside…" he makes a vague gesture with one hand, the other coming up to rest on the table top. The diner is fairly empty, a couple truckers sitting at the counter as the night keeps growing older around them.

Her eyes scan over their dad's familiar hand writing, glance back at the article before she grudgingly admits that it has potential.

"But we're not leaving until morning."

"Of course not," Justin sits back, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. It's nearly midnight, far too late to start a journey anywhere across state lines. "Where's Max?" he asks as he they slide from the booth, Alex throwing some cash on table to cover the tab.

She glances around and Justin feels a stab of panic go through him, his brother still acting a bit odd ever since Justin discovered his prophetic dream three weeks prior. It fades when they glance out the window, seeing their brother sprawled across the hood of the Impala staring up at the sky.

"Let's get back to the hotel," Alex grumbles, heading towards the door and Justin follows behind, pulling the keys from his pocket as they make their way to the car.

They head out early in the morning, Alex driving at a speed that has them arriving in Newpolt before evening. They're sitting outside a local coffee shop, Justin having hacked into the offered "free" wifi that causes customers to spend five dollars on a crappy cup of coffee for some internet time and falling easily into the research. It's not connected to the family, or the house, the other three families killed in different towns are signs of that. Their best lead is a cursed object, something that might have been in each home during the time of the murders.

"All the Telesca's possessions are going to be auctioned off at a local art gallery," he reports as Alex fiddles with the radio dial, searching for something that passes as music to her.

"They open now?"

He shoots her a grin, nodding as he shuts the laptop, pointing her in the right direction as she pulls back onto the street.

Alex makes a crack when they park at the gallery, brown eyes running over the expensive cars in the parking lot as they walk inside. Justin sends her a stern look as she opens her mouth, no doubt to make some comment on the violin music playing, and she turns away with a grumble. It's clear they stand out in their worn jeans and plain shirts, the other patrons all dressed in suits and pearls and Justin flinches internally when he notices that Max has a leaf in his hair.

The place is set up for a silent auction, pieces placed around the room with bits of paper next to them and tags indicating their authenticity hanging from their sides and Justin makes a mental note to keep a sharp eye on Max. The pieces here are expensive and their credit cards all have limits well below what most of the works start out at.

"Can I help you?" Justin turns, taking in the well dressed older gentleman behind them.

"Yes, sir." He smiles politely at the man. "I'm Justin Connors. This is my sister Alex and brother Max," he indicates to the two, "we were interested in the pieces from the Talasca home."

The man gives him a tight smile in return, not even glancing at Justin's hand as he raises it in offering and he shoots a look at his sister, noting the pinch to her features as she glares at the man for his blatant disapproval of her brother.

"I'm Daniel Blake, and this is myauction, a private auction, and I don't remember seeing your names on the guest list."

"Maybe you should check it again." Alex's voice is clipped, her smile tight and Daniel shoots her a small unpleasant glance before leveling his stern gaze on Justin once more.

Justin fights a sigh, head turning away for a second before he notices his little brother's absence. "Where's Max?"

Alex lets out a curse before they're both moving, leaving Mr. Blake and his unhappy scowl behind as they search for their brother.

They find Max staring at a painting, head titled to the side and hands shoved casually into his pockets. Justin lets out a relieved breath when nothing appears to be broken before his eyes catch on the name on the scrawled on the tickets surrounding them.

Alex smacks the back of their little brother's head before she follows his gaze. "Talasca section, aisle three." She shoots him a grin, both of them moving around to look at each object, keeping one eye on their wondering brother, who seems strangely content to stare at the painting.

"Any ideas?" Alex just shrugs, both of them turning back to check on Max. There's a blonde by his side, skirted suite on and hair curled prettily around her face as she indicates to the painting.

"…example of American primitive. Looking at the-"

"I'd say it's more Grant Wood than primitive." Alex cuts in as they come up on the duo and Justin shoots her a confused-surprised look, his sister not exactly the Facts type, that being more of his area.

The girl turns, a smile already in place as she looks at his sister. "True. Most people don't think of that. Sarah Blake," She extends her hand his sister, " but everyone calls me Tutor. Childhood nickname. It's a long story," she adds when Alex raises an eyebrow. "Where'd you study art?"

"Internet," Alex says with a snort before shrugging. "I got interested when I was a kid. More into paintings than anything else."

Justin clears his throat softly, shifting uncomfortably as the two women discuss art and wondering when exactly his sister's passing attention in sketching turned into a her knowing so much about works and styles of artists.

"Oh, this is Justin," Alex waves vaguely in his direction and Justin smiles and shakes her hand, "and I think you've met our brother Max." Their little brother looks behind him as Tutor glances his way.

"What can you tell us about the Talasca Estate?" he asks, getting them back on track.

"It's all pretty grisly if you ask me," she says, focusing on Justin. "I was about to tell Max that I think it's too soon to be selling their stuff, but Dad's right about one thing; sensationalism brings out the crowds."

"Anyway we can see the history papers? Provenance or whatever it's called." One of Alex's hands comes out from her side in a vague gesture as she leans back against a dark wooden desk shortly behind her.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," a voice says behind them, Mr. Blake standing there looking aggravated. "You're not on the guest list. I think it's time you leave."

Justin opens his mouth to protest when a small statue Max was standing next to falls over as his brother's arm jerks back and the words die on his lips. He grabs his little brother's bicep, giving Mr. Blake an apologetic smile and a hurried good bye as he drags Max out of there, Alex a few steps behind.

"What was with the art knowledge?" Justin asks once his sister has pulled back onto the road and Max is safely in the back seat where he can't break anything too expensive.

She rolls her eyes, heading closer to the outskirts of town in hopes of finding a cheap motel. "I know things. Just because I don't look up stupid boring crap like you doesn't mean I'm incapable of learning."

"Incapable. Wow, big word for you. Been reading the dictionary too?" She sticks her tongue out at him, eyes narrowed in a light glare that he happily returns. "But how exactly is seeing the provenance going to help the case?"

"It's the history of the piece, stupid. Where's it's been and all that. Seriously, didn't you have fine arts at that high class college of yours?"

"They did," he says defensively, "I just chose to take a music theory class to cover the requirement."

His sister pulls into a rundown little motel near the local post office, parking in front of their designated room before Justin gets out and heads towards the front desk, Alex hurrying after him, leaving their little brother to get the bags.

"Music Theory? What a dork," she snorts, falling into step beside him.

"Two queens. Room nineteen if you can," he says by way of greeting to the clerk behind the desk. The pimply faced kid tears his eyes away from his phone long enough to take the credit card Justin hands him, hitting a few keys on the computer before running it.

He glances up once, eyes flicking back and forth between the two siblings before a small smirk crosses his features. "Have a nice day, Mr. Rosenberg," he says in a knowing voice and Justin feels his face heat up, the irrational desire to correct the teenager coming over him before he turns and walks out, Alex beside him seemingly oblivious to what the clerk had been implying. It's not the first time they've been mistaken for a couple, hell, they've even played it up a bit when the situation called for it, but this time it aggravates Justin, makes him want to point out the mistake, define them. Max is waiting by the door, and Justin can almost feel the ropes against his arms as a dark voice asks him questions he doesn't want to answer.

Their little brother throws the bags on one of the bed after he opens the door, Justin plopping himself onto the mattress of the other and lets out a tired sigh. "Tutor seemed willing to talk. Maybe if I get her alone I can convince her to let me glance at the provenance thing?"

"You wouldn't even know what to look for," Alex snorts, opening her duffle and pulling out her bathroom bag. He used to think Alex had more hair products than anyone alive until he left for Stanford, and after moving in with Juliet, who was surprisingly low maintenance, he discovered how very little his sister actually had in the way of beauty products. Who knew there was more than four different kinds of make-up?

"But you wouldn't know the right questions. I think I should be the one, maybe take her out to dinner or the natural history museum." He looks up, feeling guilty for some reason, but Alex only looks mildly annoyed, before she rolls her eyes.

"Whatever, Romeo." His sister disappears into the bathroom, and Justin notices Max is giving him an odd look.

He ignores his little brother, pulling out his cell phone and calling up the number to the art gallery. He lies his way past the receptionist, working his way through the line of questions until he gets Tutor on the phone.

He wonders if it's too soon after Juliet's death to be asking out another girl, feels the grief and guilt turning his stomach as Tutor agrees to meet him for dinner that night.

"Ok, I'll see you tonight." He snaps the phone shut, shoving it into his pocket before opening his duffle bag and ruffling around inside for suitable clothes, refusing to look at either of his siblings.

He doesn't know why he's surprised at his sister's lack of protest on him asking out Tutor; as teenagers Alex had been constantly pushing him towards various girls, teasing him about never getting laid if he didn't learn to act quickly before they moved on to a different town with a different school and different girls.

Justin hurriedly changes, feeling his stomach turning as he pulls on the button-up in the bathroom. _It's too soon, _he thinks as he pulls up the only slacks he owns and slips in worn belt through the loops. _Juliet's been dead only three months._

He snatches the keys off the bedside table, checking his wallet to make sure his fake ID matches the name on at least one of the credit cards before shoving it in his back pocket and heading out the door, refusing to look at either of his siblings as he goes.

He meets Tutor at a local restaurant, something cheesy with a green theme, but the host seats them quickly and the food is moderately priced.

"I'm kind of surprised you asked me out?" Tutor says as they wait for their food, Justin picking apart one of the rolls from the little basket set on their table.

"Why is that?" He gives her a half smile, meeting her eyes as she blushes prettily and takes a bite of her own roll.

"Most guys usually flirt a little when they first meet me before calling me up on a date." She gives him a playful grin. "You seemed more interesting in the Talasca's belongings than me."

He shrugs, shoving away the logical part of his brain that is trying to put together why it is that he wasn't interested in her until after they rented their motel room. "That was work," he says by way of explanation, "at work, you focus on work."

She gives him another dimpled grin. "But now we're not at work," she finishes for him, tucking one strand of hair behind her ear as the waiter comes up with their meal.

"Exactly," he smiles winningly at her before adding, "but since you brought it up. I was wondering if I could take a look at the provenances my sister was talking about."

Her smile fades slightly, fork twirling in her angel haired pasta before she pulls a bite up to her mouth. "Of course. I apologize for my father's actions, he was very rude."

He waves off her apology, shooting her another grin as he digs into his own food. "Dad's are like that. I could tell you some horror stories about my family."

She looks up from her pasta, a simple "oh" asking him to go on and the interest on her face making Justin shift uncomfortable. The thought of the conversation turning towards family, of his brother and Alex makes his stomach twist slightly.

"Those are stories for another time," he says simply, taking a sip of his water as he fights the urge to end the date right now.

He steers them to small talk, surprised to learn that he and Tutor have a lot more in common than he would have thought. She was a business major at a local college, her dad insisting she needed something "practical," with a minor in art history. She came back to help in the family business when her mom got sick and stayed when she passed away.

"I sort of withdrew when Mom died. Buried myself in work until one day I realized, that's not what she would have wanted." And Justin nods, images of Juliet playing through his mind at Tutor's words.

They go back to her place after they leave the restaurant, Justin following Tutor up the front steps and standing just inside as she fetches the provenances.

"I had a really good time tonight." They're back at her front door, Justin standing half in and half out with a copy of the provenances in hand. "Too bad you're only in town for a couple of days."

"Me too." He smiles at her pout, and ignoring the part of his mind whispering _too soon, too soon, _leans forward and presses his lips to her's. The kiss is short and sweet and Justin stomach both flips and twist in an unpleasant way. One hand comes up to cup her jaw, taking charge of the kiss and putting everything he has into it as he shoves away the thought and his grief and stead fastly ignores the tiny, dark voice claiming this isn't about Juliet at all. _Are you fucking our sister?_

He pulls away, giving Tutor a small smile before stepping out into the night air. "Thanks again," he holds up the copies, moving back slowly, turning only after she's closed the door. The drive back to the motel is done in a hazy swirl of thoughts, his mind a jumbled mess of confusion, guilt, grief and anger.

Alex snatches the papers from him the moment he walks in the door, crossing her legs under her as she settles onto one of the beds, Dad's journal open in her lap, comparing the names.

"This one," she says, holding up a sheet and her brothers move closer to take a better look. "All three families own this painting the same year they died and the Talascas were killed the night they bought it."

Justin's eyes skim the name and description, eyebrows drawing together as he puts the pieces together. "The painting Max was so interested in?"

"It was creepy," their brother says simply, taking the paper from Alex. He frowns, placing the paper on the bed before asking, "We're going to have to burn it aren't we?"

"Yep," Alex says happily, a grin practically splitting her face in two.

"We'll go tonight," Justin declares, pulling his button-up off in favor of a darker shirt and broken in jeans.

Alex parks a couple blocks down, the three of them climbing out of the vehicle and using the night as cover moving down to the gated fence. Justin immediately drops to one knee, hands lacing to help boost Alex. His sister grabs the top, pulling herself over and dropping to her feet on the other side, Max climbing up shortly after her. Justin pulls himself up and over quickly after them, dropping to the ground and looking around to make sure they're still unnoticed.

The building has an alarm, a simple code system that Max has disarmed within seconds of removing the face of the key pad. Justin picks the lock, the three hurrying inside before he shuts the door behind them and making a bee line for the section containing the Talasca's pieces. They find the painting where they last saw it, Alex flipping open a blade and cutting the picture from its gaudy frame.

"We're doing the art world a favor," she declares, holding up the family portrait, a man and woman with their three children, two boys and a girl, posed in front of them. The colors are dark, fitting the boring setting and Justin can't help but agree Max's "creepy" assessment.

"I like it," his little brother states simply.

They go out the door they came in, resetting the alarm, it always confuses the police more, before getting in the car and heading quickly towards an abandoned little clearing. Max pouts as Alex pours the lighter fluid and throws the match down, the three of them watching it burn before getting in the car and heading back to the motel.

"Let's stop by the auction house on the way." They're packing, the job finished, when Alex speaks.

"Why?" Justin's stomach twists, the guilt and grief coming back strong and he fights to keep his face and body language neutral.

"I wanna get Tutor's number."

"Police are going to be there. There's going to be an investigation. It's not safe."

"Oh please," she gives him an unconvinced look, sharp eye taking in his forced relaxed posture and Justin fights to act casual. "It'd be more suspicions _not _to show up. Don't tell me you bombed your date?" Her face takes on a look of maniacal glee as she takes him in.

"No." He's too defensive, even he knows this, but he can't stop the irrational guilt coming across as anger at the thought of seeing the blonde again. At having Alex see her again.

His sister smirks, zipping up her bag and pulling it onto her shoulder. "We're going." Behind him Max looks on in amusement.

He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot just inside the auction house, eyes scanning the surrounding patrons as he tries to spot even the smallest sign of an officer. The parking lot had been bare of marked cars and everything seems to be in order inside; no police, no one walking quickly in a panic, no sign that the painting is even missing.

Alex has disappeared into the crowd, Max behind her, in search of Tutor and to double check on the last of the Talasca's property.

"Justin," he turns quickly in time to see Tutor come up and hug him, "didn't think I'd see you here. Thought you guys were moving on today?"

"We were," he says with a smile, slipping into his role easily to cover the slight panic that's come over him. "But I wanted to stop by and say 'good-bye.'"

Her dimpled grin grows as she moves them away from the door and the surrounding people.

"I'm glad you did."

Justin feels a pang go through him at her confession; he could like her, but Juliet's death was so soon, he doesn't feel free yet.

Alex rushes up before he can say reply, her eyes conveying worry and urgency before he hears her say, "We have to go." She turns to acknowledge Tutor, giving the blonde a quick "hi" before "Did Justin tell you we were staying a few more days?"

The young girl blinks in surprise. "No, he didn't."

"I hadn't gotten to that just yet," he covers quickly, smiling at her before glancing back at Alex, seeing his sister anxious expression. "But we do have to go."

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion, "But I thought you said you came by to tell me "good-bye?"

"I did."

Justin's mind whirls with half formed excuses, fighting to keep his face from giving away the lie when his sister speaks up. "What he meant was that we were planning on leaving for the day, coming back tonight, but that trip got canceled."

"It did?" he asks, turning his attention to Alex.

"Yep. Boss just called. That house fire last night, did get the painting after all."

"It didn't?" Alex shakes her head no as Justin blinks back his surprise. "Well that's a surprise."

**A/N: This is unbeta'd. I'll get around to replacing this with the grammatically version later. But it's been too long since my last update to wait. :)**

**Good news, for the past three weeks I've been working two full time jobs so I've been way too busy to write, but my training for job number two is over so I'm down to part time on the one and will have more time to write. (The bad news is now I'll make less money than I have the last three weeks, but I signed up for a part time job and was on full time just for training, so this was expected.)**

**Reviews=Love**


	15. Take A Picture, Itll Last Longer

14-Provenance (Take A Picture, I'll Last Longer)

Alex hates complications, especially when they involve her and a job she'd done. The young hunter blinks at the painting before her, taking in the somber colors and the unsmiling faces of the family within and remembers the satisfaction she felt in burning the thing the night before.

She turns away with a string of curses, eyes already scanning the crowd for Justin while her mind races with how the damn thing could have come back, and gotten back in its original frame for Christ's sake, after the salt and burn the night before.

She catches her big brother chatting with Tutor, his shoulders tense even as he smiles winningly at the other girl. Alex fights the urge to roll her eyes at the display. It figures that now he chooses to listen to her. They've never stayed any place long, (the record standing at 73 days in one town before the next hunt Dad found took him too far away to be back before someone took too much notice and claimed neglect) and Justin had never fully grasped the concept of a "casual." Her longest relationship was two months with a guy named Riley who taught her the art of oral sex which, looking back on it, was probably why they lasted as long as they did. Alex would bet money that Justin went off to college still in possession of his V-card.

"We have to go." She turns to give Tutor a quick smile, trying to convey the urgency to her brother while keeping it from the blonde. "Did Justin tell you we were staying a few more days?"

Tutor blinks before turning back to Justin. "No, he didn't."

She watches Justin come up with a quick cover and fights the urge to fidget, to cut off her brother and the blonde's conversation and drag him from the room.

"What he meant was that we were planning on leaving for the day, coming back tonight, but that trip got canceled," Alex cuts in quickly, wanting this conversation over with.

"It did?"

"Yep. Boss just called. That house fire last night, didn't get the painting after all."

She shakes her head as Justin asks, "It didn't?" before he blinks slowly. "Well, that's a surprise."

"Yeah, so we gotta go." She gives into her urge this time, grabbing her brother's arm and dragging him from the room, giving Tutor another quick grin (she does like the girl) as she passes.

"How could it have _not _burned? We burned it." Justin's voice is exasperated and hushed, even as they walk outside.

"I don't know, but I saw it. The damn thing is back in its frame looking as creepy as ever." She fishes the keys out of her front pocket as they walk back to the Impala, mind caught up in what this means for their case, and most importantly, how to destroy the cursed object permanently.

It isn't until they're in the car, Alex slotting the key into the ignition that Justin interrupts her thoughts. "Hey, where's Max?"

She curses loudly as she turns to look in the backseat, the emptiness conveying what she already knew; they left him inside. It's a testament to how much the piece of art's reappearance has thrown them that they left their little brother behind, both of them having been hyper aware of his presence ever since St. Louis and the dream confession.

"I'll get him," her brother says with a sigh, opening the passenger side door.

"No," she cuts in, making him pause. "I better do it. Don't want you getting distracted by your girlfriend."

She throws a smirk over her shoulder, laughing at the "she's not my girlfriend!" Justin yells at her back.

The computers at the library are down, making their job twice as hard in her opinion. They'd use the laptop back at the motel, but they only have the one, and research goes faster when there's three of them, although Alex is more than willing to argue the "Justin can do it faster than me" excuse right about now if it gets her out of flipping through one more old book looking for any inkling on the Merchant family portrayed in the painting.

Portraits are usually haunted by the person in them, and finding information on the family is the first step in putting this case and this town behind them.

"Here you go." Another stack of books is dropped onto the table before the siblings as the elderly librarian unloads his burden. "I think that's the last of them on Isaiah Merchant." He smiles winningly at them before scurrying off to wherever it is that librarians scurry to do.

Max holds up the yellowed front page of a newspaper from its place taped to one of the tome's pages, finger pointing to an article and drawing Alex gratefully away from her own book. "The Titanic sank. Can you believe it? It's just like that movie."

"Max," Justin begins in exasperation, "we're supposed to be looking for anything on the Merchant family."

"But that article wasn't nearly as interesting." This time it's Alex who bites her tongue in annoyance, yanking the page from her brother's hands. There's a harsh sound of paper ripping, followed by Justin's angry scoff. The article is still readable, though, so she blows him off, eyes scanning the story of how Isaiah Merchant murdered his entire family using a straight razor from his barber shop.

"Bad luck," mutters her older brother over her shoulder making Alex jump.

"Jesus. Warn someone when you're there, would you?"

"Sorry," he mutters, "but to have your whole family killed in the middle of a the night then your adoptive father murder you a year later," her eyes catch on the sentence Justin's referring too, the few lines mentioning the only daughter's tragic past before being adopted by the Merchants, "it's just sad." He shrugs as she rolls her eyes at him.

"I found something," Max says, pulling Alex's attention from the article, which was starting to bore her anyways. Her little brother has a book opened, the painting they had tried to burn the night before printed on its glossy page.

"That's the haunted painting, doofus."

"No, it's not. It's a different one." His face sets in an unusual show of resolve, and the young hunter fights the urge to smack the back of his head before her eyes catch on the picture.

"Check it out," her finger touches the paper, indicating to the position of the father's head to her older brother.

"What?"

"He's not the same. The one at the auction house he's looking off and to the side, here's he's facing forward with the rest of his family."

Justin studies the picture for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in concentration before he asks, "Anything else different?"

"I'm not sure. I'd have to compare them side by side." Her brother nods, taking the book from Max's hands and carrying if over to the copier.

She puts the article in her little brother's hands in place of the book. "Read that. See if it says where the bodies are, and let me know." She lets a mischievous grin come across her features before heading off after Justin.

"Guess this is going to give you another chance to chat up Tutor, huh?" She shoots him a teasing smile, a spark of confusion coming on as he gives her a long, searching look.

"Maybe I will. She's pretty, smart and we're both consenting adults." There's a lie in there somewhere or maybe a half-lie, something underneath it all straining her brother's voice just enough for her to catch it, but she doesn't push. She can't see him making this little fling with Tutor serious, not with his history and Juliet's death so close, can't even see him getting it to "fling" level, and normally she'd never pass up an opportunity to torment Justin on something so easy, but something in her gut tells her not to, like teasing him may only push him to do something that'll make _her _upset, and she tries to avoid things that she doesn't like.

"Cremated," Max says when they head back to the table, and Alex silently curses their luck. Will nothing in this case go right?

"Alright, well, first things first. Let's head back to the auction house and compare the picture to the painting. See if we can find anything else different in it." Justin's voice is all work-mode, and Alex fights the urge to make a crack about him being anxious to see his girlfriend.

Alex is the one to make the call to Tutor, her older brother behind the wheel and therefore in no position to make a phone call. She ignores his short lived protests on how she's called him several times while driving as she looks for Tutor's name in the contact list.

_"I was hoping you'd call." _

"It's me, Alex. Justin can't talk at the moment," she says by way of greeting the chipper girl. "It seems Max has decided he likes that ugly painting of that family we were looking at, and we were wondering if we could come by and try to talk him out of it."

_"Oh, I'm so sorry," _she sounds genuinely upset and Alex feels just a touch of annoyance towards the girl that she doesn't want to look too close at, _"but Dad sold it earlier today."_

Panic shoots through her at the girl's words and she shoots Justin a pointed look as she asks Tutor for the address. Maybe it's the panic in her voice, or the fact that Tutor likes her brother, or maybe the girl is just not the brightest crayon in the box, but she gives the address without a fight, Alex jotting it down on her arm due to lack of paper within reach.

There are two cars sitting in the long driveway as Justin pulls up, someone sitting in one, and Alex lets out a groan as Tutor steps from the SUV.

"What are you doing here?" She's glad to hear the same frustration she's feeling in her brother's voice, the three siblings quickly getting out of their own vehicle, Alex and Max bypassing the girl and hurrying to knock on the front door, Justin a few steps behind them.

"Alex sounded panicked on the phone, and Evelyn's a friend."

Max drops to his knee before Alex gets more than a few knocks against the dark grain of the door, lock picking kit out and tools in hand by the time Justin makes it up the porch steps.

"Wha-"

Tutor doesn't get to finish her question before their little brother has the door open and the four of them rush in.

"Evelyn," the blonde calls, following them inside, having picked up on their urgency if her hurried foot steps are anything to go by.

There's a living room just off the main entrance, the back of a dark blue easy chair visible with grey-white curls just peaking over the top. Tutor starts to make her way towards it, calling Evelyn's name, when Justin pulls her back, long fingers wrapped around her upper arm as Alex steps around them.

She shakes her head at her brother when she sees the body propped in the chair, front of an expensive looking sweater stiff with dried blood, congealing strands still dripping from the deep slit across the old woman's throat.

"Let's go outside," Justin suggests, tugging gently at Tutor, who's staring between Alex and the chair with a kind of disbelief.

"Bu-but…" She let's Justin pull her away, and Alex takes the time to assess the scene, quickly locating the painting in time to see Daddy Dearest moving so he's face forward.

"Clean up." Max heads outside, rag in hand to wipe any lingering fingerprints off the knob of the front door, as Alex's hands come out from her sides, palms up, as she looks to the sky and silently asks God for _something_ to go their way.

It takes pleading and way too much mushy talk from Justin for Alex's comfort to convince Tutor to leave them out of it when she calls the cops and reports Evelyn's death. But by the time they're back at the hotel, the young hunter is fairly certain the cops won't be coming to take their statements.

They wait it out until an hour before dusk, she and Max gathering what they'll need (or at least what she's guessing they'll need) while Justin does more research on Isaiah Merchant and his family. They're not any closer to destroying the damn thing, but at least they can take the painting, get it away from normal people and put it somewhere safe until they can figure out the next step.

Breaking in is easy enough, Justin cutting through the crime scene tape on the door while Alex re-picks the lock. They don't worry about keeping their presence in the house unknown this time, Max purposely knocking over a lamp on the way in while her older brother shoves some of the more valuable looking items into a bag; they're taking the painting, might as well make it look like a little petty theft took place. Alex grabs the portrait, wooden frame slipping a little under the leather gloves she's wearing. Usually they do a smash, rob, and then burn to crime scenes they're covering up, but there's a murder here, and the last thing they need is the police linking it all and getting on their trail, especially with St. Louis so soon behind them.

It doesn't take long before they're back in the Impala, Alex behind the wheel while Max looks through the ill gotten goods in the back, sorting the items into what can be safely pawned and what's too easily traced. Their older brother studies the purpose for their trip and compares it to the copy they got from the library.

"The razor," he says after a moment. "It's closed in the original, but here it's open."

Spirits often change things in pictures that relate to them, and Alex lets out a snort at Justin's findings. "Well, duh. That's what he killed his family with and what he's been using to slice necks after death. Kind of think it's his tool of trade." The last bit comes out a sarcastic quip, dark eyes leaving the road for the second to shoot her brother a look.

Justin just rolls his eyes, ignoring Max's bark of laughter from the back as he goes back to studying the portrait.

"The painting, the one within the painting, is different."

Alex's gazes follows where his finger is pointing to, head tilting to the side as she tries to get a better look at portrait behind the family. It's definitely different, the original of a mountain scene while the version in her brother's lap has some old building in it.

"Is that a crypt?"

"Eyes on the road!" Justin hisses as he notices what Alex is doing, one hand coming out to grab at the wheel before she bats it away and shoots him an annoyed look. It's not like there was any other car around to notice she was half in the wrong lane.

He just glares back before producing a magnifying glass from his bag, something she'd tease him about if it wasn't currently coming in handy to take a closer look at the painted crypt.

"It's a family one," he says after a moment of squinting, "says Merchant on it."

"Where did the article say they family's remains are?"

"Uh," Justin pulls his bag into his lap, covering the painting in the process, before pulling out a stack of papers and flipping through for the copy of the article. "Marion, about a fifteen minute drive from here."

Alex grins as she turns the direction her brother indicates, hitting the gas as she goes. They'll get there in ten.

It just so happens that Marion has seven cemeteries, and Alex has lost her good mood after the first four.

"With the way our luck is going, the Merchants will be in number seven," she mutters angrily as they trot through the fifth one on the list.

"Looks like our luck has changed." She looks over at Justin to see him pointing to a building matching the one in the painting. It's made of cement, long pillars on either side of a heavy metal door rusted with age and the name Merchant carved across the top in all caps. There's a chain wrapped loosely around the handles with a worn padlock through the loops.

Max pulls the heavy duty bolt cutters from the duffle bag Alex made him carry, snapping the lock off and pulling the heavy chain through the handles. The inside of the crypt is dark and damp, spider webs hanging and dirt covering ever surface. Along the right side is a marble shelf, the urns that hold the family members' individual ashes sitting in a line with name plates indicating the owner and the years they were alive on the wall directly across.

There's something on the wall behind each urn, crusted in so much dirt Alex has to lean closer to make it out. Individual compartments, almost like small, square rooms. Items seemingly related to each person are placed inside, glass covering the openings and offering some protection for what's inside.

"It was sort of a tradition at that time." Justin's voice breaks her from her study, and Alex looks over her shoulder to see her brother watching her. "Whenever a child died, they'd put one of their favorite toys in a glass case to put it with them."

She looks back, taking in the porcelain doll behind one before moving on to the stuffed bear and leather ball in the other two.

"There's only four," she says, waving vaguely at the shelf, looking over at the names on the opposite wall. "Daddy Isaiah's not here."

She exchanges looks with Justin before heading out, sharing with Max, who stayed outside to keep watch, what they found as they head back to the car. Alex gets into the driver's seat as Justin pulls out a local map of the place and points her towards the County Clerk's office.

A few well placed words and a flashing of a badge later and her brother's are inside looking up county death certificates to find out where Isaiah Merchant was laid to rest, Alex choosing the much less boring job of studying the painting for more differences and munching on a Slim Jim. She doesn't find any, not that she really expected too, Justin's pretty thorough, but it's better than being stuck inside a cramped room reading.

She looks up at the sound of footsteps, subtly moving to better block the view of the painting from nosy passersby before noticing who it is.

"Find anything?"

Justin holds up a slip of paper, smiling proudly as research once again proves useful.

"Apparently the surviving relatives were so ashamed of Isaiah that they refused to let his remains be put with the rest of the families. Turned him over to the state, and he was given a cheap funeral in a pine box."

"So we can burn him?" She asked cheerfully, the idea of having something tangible to burn making the trip seem worth it.

"Yep," her brother responds, smiling at her enthusiasm.

Her brother has the foresight to look up the exact graveyard Mr. Merchant was buried in, but it's still well past dark by the time Justin and Max have the shovels out and are breaking ground over the rather plain headstone, the name long since worn away over the years.

Alex looks on as the hole around her brothers gets bigger, smiling happily has she thinks about how being the only girl has its advantages, childhood memories of tagging along on hunts and Daddy shoving a salt filled shot gun in her hands with strict orders to shoot anything that go too close while he and Justin (and later on Max) dug up whatever corpse of whatever ghost was currently haunting whatever place they were in. The tradition stuck, and now Alex stood sentry duty while her brothers committed decimation of yet another grave; it's on all their arrest records, local cops assuming they're just being dumb kids playing a practical joke, and for some reason the name of the charges stuck with her.

When Max hit the wooden lid of the pine casket and Justin breaks the thing open, Alex stands ready, bag of salt in one hand and red container of gasoline at her feet. She sprinkles the salt over the corpse, imagining she can hear the dry sound of it hitting the off-white bones before handing the bag to Max and hefting the gasoline can close to her shoulder, sloshing some of the contents onto the body and casket. She lights a few matches, feeling herself smile happily as she drops the three burning sticks down the hole, the wood and bones catching flame quickly.

She feels lighter as they head back to the car, finally breathing a sigh of relief that the case is closed.

"I think we should burn the painting, just in case."

Justin shoots her a knowing look, but manages to refrain from making a comment while Max grumbles, "But I wanted to keep it."

They get back to the car, Alex pulling the painting still in its frame out from its place in the passenger seat before pausing to look at it.

"Justin," she calls, staring at the spot where Isaiah is looking, head still cocked to the side and down, looking at the blank spot where the little girl had been.

"The razor," her brother says over her shoulder, one hand coming into her view as he points to the missing razor on the coffee table.

"Holy shit." Alex whirls around quickly at the sound of Max's voice, eyes landing on the figure of a little girl, hair nicely curled around her face and an open barber's razor in one little fist, a china doll in the other. Her skin is the too-pale of a spirit, veins standing out harshly and bringing out the milkiness in her eyes. She flickers closer, and Alex lifts the shot gun and fires into her, watching the child dissipate as the rock salt hits her. Alex grabs the painting and gets in the car, tossing the shot gun in the back seat with her little brother.

"Which way?" she asks, voice breathless as she tries to remember how to get back to the cemetery the rest of the Merchant family was buried in.

"That way." One of Justin's long fingers points to the left, and Alex speeds out, needing to get to the crypt fast before the young girl decides to pop back up in the car, but they couldn't afford to leave the painting behind and risk a stranger coming through at the wrong moment.

They get to the cemetery in record time, car doors slamming behind them as the girl flickers to life in front of them, blocking their path.

"Go," Max calls, firing into the girl's chest once, and Alex and Justin take off. She flickers out, and Alex can hear Max hurrying to catch up.

The eldest Russo reaches the crypt first, longer stride giving him the advantage, pulling the broken lock and chain from the door before the three of them rush inside.

Alex grabs the ashes of the girl, upturning the urn and dumping the gray ash onto the ground, looking for any little bit that could have made it through the fire. Some remains have to have been left behind for the girl to still be killing people.

"The doll," her older brother breathes, pointing to the dirty glass. "Something Tutor said," he explains when Alex gives him an odd look. "About how antique dolls were often made in the image of the girl they were meant for."

"She's back," Max says, body facing the door and shot gun raised before Justin continues.

"They'd even sometimes use the girl's real hair in the doll."

She glance back at the porcelain toy tucked safely behind it's glass wall before pulling the gun out from the back of her jeans. "Works for me." She fires once, shattering the glass before using the nose of the gun to break it enough to pull the doll out while Justin fumbles the matches out of his pocket; he didn't trust her to carry them, he claimed. She could hear Max firing rock salt behind her, feel him backing up as the spirit gets steadily closer with each flicker in and out.

Justin rips a match from the pack, rubbing the red head against the grainy stripe on the back and hears the sizzle pop of it lighting before holding the match beneath the doll's hair. It catches quickly, lighting up the doll's head in a cloud of flame and smoke, and Alex looks up inside to see the adopted member of the Merchant family burn along with her doll, mouth opening in a silent scream as she drops the blade to disappear in midair.

"Child ghost," Max says after a moment has passed. "Haven't see that in a while." Alex nods at the understatement. Normally ghosts of children are victims, hurting those around them in anger at what they'd been through, but Melanie-Alex had spared a quick glance at the name plate inside crypt the first time they'd been there-hadn't been angry.

"That was one effed up little girl," she adds as they head out of the crypt, Justin shutting the door and putting the chain back around the handle in hopes of deterring anyone from looking too closely anytime soon.

"Yeah, she really was. Wonder why? I mean, are some people just born disturbed or did something make her that way?" She shoots her brother an annoyed look. "I'm just saying, her entire family was killed in their beds with the killer never found, then a year later, she kills her new adoptive family with her dad's barber knife. Kind of makes you wonder. Did she kill her first family, or did their murder drive her to kill her second one?"

"You did more research on her before, didn't you?" Alex accuses, eyes sparking in mischief as she thinks of ways to tease her brother for this.

"You can never do too much research on a case," her brother replies defensively.

"What are we going to do with this?" Max says once they're back to the car, pulling out the painting.

"Burn it," Alex says with a sigh.

"But the spirit is gone." She grits her teeth at her little brother's argument, taking a deep breath before turning to face him head on.

"We can't keep it. Either we burn it, or give it back to Tutor so her dad can resell it. Up to you."

Her little brother contemplates for a moment, and Alex finds herself hoping that he'll say burn it so they can just grab their stuff and head out, put this town and bad luck case behind them.

"I guess we can give it back," he says after a moment, and Alex stamps down her disappointment.

"Nah, Maxie, let her burn it." She whips her head around to stare at her older brother in mild shock.

"What," she teases, "afraid to see your girlfriend again?"

"A little," he says seriously, and Alex blinks back in surprise. "I'm not really… ready to date. It's too soon, and I sort of pushed myself with her. She's a great girl, and if it had been a different time, I could have really liked her, but right now…" He shrugs, turning away before looking back at her, silently asking her understand. She nods, plucking the ugly painting out of her little brother's hands before tossing it on the ground and holding her palm out to Justin for the matches. They watch it go up in smoke, Alex thinking about what he said and absently wondering how long it'll take him before he's ready.

**A/N: So in the original episode Sarah/Tutor realized that it was a ghost and all that, but everyone Sam and Dean meet seem to realize the truth and want a little more mystery left behind.**

**Favorite line from the episode I really wish I could have incorporated into this story: "What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low sodium freaks."**


	16. As Cliche As It Sounds

15-Hook Man (As Cliché As it Sounds)

**A/N: I have reached 100 reviews! Sooo, a quick shout out to: The one hundredth reviewer who, sadly, did not leave his/her name.**

**And I couldn't remember this episode, like pretty much at all, which, not surprising, made it much harder to write as I had to watch way ahead in the episode to remember what bits of info were important and then go way back so I could remember the details of a scene enough to rewrite it with the Russos in it. (Yes, I could have just made up my own details, but part of what inspired this was how the Russo siblings would react to the exact same cases/hunts/situations that the Winchesters have gone through.)**

Justin shuts his cell phone with a snap and a quick "good-bye," shaking his head when his sister looks at him.

"Still don't see why he can't just do some kind of locator spell or something."

"You know if he could he would. Besides, Dad and Uncle Kelbo have been friends for years, I'm sure he taught him how to counteract something like that."

He ignores Alex's snort and eye roll, settling himself onto the bed as his sister moves back to the laptop in front of her. Max comes out of the bathroom, cloud of steam behind him, fully dressed with hair already dried, and Justin frowns, wondering if he needs to go over the rules of showering again, before Alex turns the computer towards him, almost tossing it onto the bed.

"What do you think?"

Gray eyes scan the article, a news page from Ankeny, Iowa, about a Richard Steskie's death, currently still ruled a murder, and the surprising lack of any evidence. The case doesn't have much merit, the sole witness being the victim's girlfriend, a college girl who could just as easily have been seeing or, in this case, not seeing things. He's a little surprised his sister would pick a case like this, the idea of the Invisible Man killing people having usually been something that would pique his interest, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"It's only about an hour's drive from here," she comments when he doesn't say anything.

"More like an hour and a half," Justin corrects before he stands and moves around the room. "Did you wash your hair?" he says when he looks back at Max.

His little brother rolls his eyes, muttering a "no" before turning around and going back into the bathroom, Justin following behind, already going into Lecture Mode and fully planning on sitting on the toilet by the shower to make sure Max actually gets in.

"This isn't going to work."

The Chevy comes to a stop outside the two story home, Alex putting it into park before asking, "Why not?"

"This a fraternity, and not one of those co-ed ones, but an all male one. And last time I checked, Alex, you're a girl."

A teasing grin comes over her face, one eyebrow raising slightly. "You noticed, huh?"

And Justin feels something lightly twist down in his stomach, eyes dropping lower just a moment before he levels a glare at her, irritation spiking and causing his next words to be a little harsher than he thinks he means them too, "You can't lie your way in here. We can't claim to be from a brother fraternity if you're with us."

"That's sexist."

"No, it's not," he snaps. Alex appears unfazed, studying one of the college guys peeking curiously at them over the engine of the car he's working on, "and even it was, there's nothing we can do about it." He takes a breath, sending a glare to the frat boy still watching them before continuing. "Why don't you let Max and I handle this part. You can interview the girlfriend, see if she saw anything she's not saying."

"Whatever," she mutters nonchalantly, already starting up the car before shooing the two of them out of the vehicle. She gives car guy a little wave as she passes, wide grin pasted on her face just to annoy him, he's sure. He stamps down the feeling as he and Max start up the sidewalk.

"Hi," he greets, and the frat boy's faces scrunches up in confusion, "I'm Justin, and this is Max. We're fraternity brothers from out in California. We're on a road trip and need a place to stay for a new nights."

Car guy's confusion melts, and Justin silently thanks Zeke for his weeklong obsession with the Greek Houses having instilled some knowledge on their inner workings in him.

"Uh, sure. I think Stan's got an empty bed. And Luke's usually pretty willing to let someone crash with him." Justin wonders absently if he can sneak Alex in for the night, save them the cost of a motel room (some of their credit cards are getting a little high).

They make their way into the house, Justin having to keep an eye on Max as they weaved their way around overly excited college guys preparing for what appeared to be a football game that evening.

"Dude, that guy is purple!" Justin turned at both his brother's words and the slap Max delivered to his arm. "Think I could-"

"No," he says firmly. "Whatever it is, no." The older man gives one final look at the co-ed in the process of painting himself an alarmingly bright shade of purple before tugging Max along.

"Hey," he grabs the arm of a passing fraternity brother, "We're supposed to be looking for Rich's roommate. He was going to be giving us a statement. We're from the school paper." He's going on the hope that the guy out front and the one before him don't compare stories, he's pretty sure it's a safe bet.

The young man turns back slightly, pointing over his shoulder as he replies, "Down the hall and to the left." Justin barely gets out the 'thanks' before the frat boy has stepped around him and is out of sight.

They find the room easy enough, watching the young man with glasses type furiously on a laptop in frustration before he notices the brothers presence and shuts it.

"Uh, can I help you?"

"I'm Justin and this is Max." He gestures to himself and his brother in turn before stepping further into the room. "We just transferred here, bunking with Stan and-"

"We heard one of the guys from here got killed last week." He gives Max a subtle glare for his bluntness as he notices glasses guy grimace.

"Yeah. Rich. He was nice guy."

Turns out, Peter, Rich's roommate, barely knew the victim, the two having hardly ever seen each other, and Justin is grateful when his phone interrupts their conversation. A quick glance at the screen shows his sister's name, and he excuses himself to answer, leaving Peter in Max's hands.

"The girlfriend is a reverend's daughter, thanks for that. I had to listen to nearly two hours of hellfire and brimstone bullshit before service was finally over and I could talk to her." Justin couldn't stop the smirk from crossing his features at the mental image of his sister in a church, pretending to attentively listen to the sermon in order to gain the trust of a potential person of interest.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yep." He can practically hear the smug smile in her voice. "Laurie heard scratching and then found good ol' Richie hung upside down from the trees over the car, throat slit."

"Ok. Meet us on the campus library, see if we can find any other victims with the same MO." She makes a noise of affirmation, marred slightly but the aggravation he can hear in her voice at the thought of the library, before they hang up and the hunter turns back to the two young men.

"Sorry to interrupt." Peter doesn't seem particularly upset by it, if the confused expression commonly worn by people who talk to too long to Max is anything to go by. "But is there any way you can tell us where the library is?" He gives a shrug and smiles, keeping it friendly, and Peter nods quickly as he stands, pulling a folded campus map from under a stack of books and handing it to Justin.

"Here," he says, pointing to the spot marked "Library" when the older man gets it open.

"Keep it," he says when Justin goes to hand it back. "They give us a new one every semester." He smiled in thanks before he and Max turn to leave.

* * *

He rolls his eyes as Alex enters, his sister having timed her arrival to just seconds before Justin reaches for his phone to call her. Faded folders and books of articles are scattered around him and Max, their sister eyeing them with distaste for a second before she takes a seat and pulls one of the thinner books near her with a weary sigh.

"Find anything?" she asks, opening to the first page and scanning the article.

"No," he replies quietly, hoping vainly that she'll take his lead and lower her voice. His eyes crinkle slightly as he pauses, rereading the last sentence before opening his mouth to amend his statement, "Yes."

She perks up, smiling happily as she shuts her book quickly and scoots her chair closer to him, the feet scratching on the linoleum. Max comes around to his other side, both looking over his shoulder at the arrest record he had in his hands.

"Jacob Carns, a preacher arrested in 1862 for murder." His left hand comes up to lightly touch the words as he reads, skimming over the report. "He was unhappy about the growing red light district and killed thirteen prostitutes in a night, hanging them upside down from trees and leaving others in their beds to warn people against the 'sins of the flesh.'"

"Could be our guy," Alex agrees, leaning against his shoulder as she tries to make out the scrawled writing, one hand coming out to point to a spot on the page. "All were killed on Nine Mile Road, same place as Laurie's boyfriend."

Max slides a few yellowed sheets from the folder, revealing a drawing of Jacob Carns and a brief written description of him.

"Looks like Father Jacob lost his hand in an accident at some point. Replaced it with a silver hook." Little brother lets out a snort, one side of his mouth curving up in amusement. "We're hunting The Hook Man."

"First of all," Justin says, pulling the pages from Max's hands to keep with the file, "he's a preacher, not a Father. And second, that'd be _a _hook man, not _the_ hook man. There's no way to know the exact origin to the Hook Man legend, or even how much of the original story survived over the years to form the legen-"

"We get it," Alex cuts in abruptly, popping the papers back in the folder and tucking in under her jacket. "Let's check out the road before you go on one of your long, boring speeches about things no one cares about."

"I was just saying that while all legends do have their origins, it's impossible to-"

"See, there you go, rambling about things no one cares about." She already walking away, pilfered folder still hidden beneath her leather jacket as she heads out, Max already following behind. Justin lets out a slightly frustrated sigh before getting up and heading after them.

* * *

The road is abandoned, and Justin can't help but notice with some relief that they aren't breaking into a crime scene for once. Alex parks at the edge, and he gets out of the passenger side, heading back to the trunk while his sister takes up guard, eyes trained on their surroundings and Max following close behind. He pulls out the EMF reader and three shotguns, loading them each with salt before handing one off to his brother and shutting the trunk with a snap.

He walks over to hand the other to Alex. She takes it without a word, and they make their way down the road. Justin flips on the reader, not really expecting to find much, but wanting to be prepared nonetheless. It's silent in his hand after the first whirl as it came to life, and he shoves it in his jacket pocket to grip the shotgun with two hands.

A twig snapping to his right has him pulling the weapon up, leveling the butt of it against his shoulder and finger lightly touching the trigger, Dad's voice still echoing in the back of his head like it did when he was seven and getting his first lesson "_Never rest it on the trigger unless you're willing to pull it."_

He can feel his siblings moving at his sides, both drawing their shotguns up as they shift into better positions.

"Put the gun down now!" The voice is loud, booming and authoritative, and Justin curses silently. Figures the one time they're not breaking into a crime scene is the time they get caught. He feels a little like a teenager again, trying to explain what he was doing breaking into the morgue at midnight while his dad brings the car around front.

They drop to their knees immediately, guns held down and away as to be non-threatening as the cops, or perhaps sheriff is better term if the uniforms are anything to go by, come out of the trees surrounding them. There's only two, and Justin knows they could take care of them easily, but they've barely started this case and don't need the local police on their ass. He shoots a quick look to his sister, making sure she's on the same page. She frowns slightly when he shakes his head, disappointment coloring her features briefly before she lets one of the officers drag her to her feet, cuffing her in the process, and Justin can't help but roll his eyes at how gentle they're being with her compared to himself and Max.

They get walked a little ways down the road, luckily opposite of the car (he's not sure how they'd explain the contents of the trunk), and towards a police car. He can practically feel Alex's frustration mounting as they draw closer, both at being caught and how careless the cops were being. Justin's counted at least three times he could have gotten away, and he knows it just kills Alex to not be taking them.

They're placed in the back of the squad car, Justin taking advantage of the seconds between the back doors closing and the officers getting into the front to hiss at his siblings. "Let me do the talking."

He can see Alex roll her eyes, muttering something under her breath, but he doesn't catch what it is before the officers are in the car and they're on their way to the station.

* * *

Justin can't stop the small smile from spreading across his face a few hours later as Alex and Max join him at the front desk, even as his sister scowls at him.

"You'll have to pay it by the 13th or it'll go to court," the woman behind the counter continued on and Justin nodded, he face the perfect picture of taking this seriously and a part of him wants to pay the fine, make good on that promise, but most of their credit cards are nearly maxed out and the IDs on them were all fake, there's no chance of them getting tracked down. The woman nods at him, satisfied with his words as she hands over the ticket.

"What did you say?" Alex asks as soon as the station's doors shut behind them.

He smirks at her lightly, feeling a little smug before replying. "I told them it was prank. That you two were my cousins in from out of town for my birthday and that I wanted to have a little fun." He'd never say it out loud, but he thinks he plays the asshole brother/cousin/friend pretty well. "The rock salt in the shot guns convinced them I think. There's a fine, apparently, and they took the shot guns, but beyond that." He shrugs, mind already moving on to trying to get back to the car.

"We're not stealing a cop car." He glances over at Alex's words, catching Max staring the line of squad cars with a thoughtful expression. They both reach out, grabbing a sleeve of their little brother's shirt and start to drag him away, Alex stopping for a moment to look back at the line of police vehicles, and Justin opens his mouth to tell her "No" - silently cursing Max for giving her the idea - before she shakes her head and they begin walking again.

They end up stealing - borrowing (they'll give it back) - a civilian's vehicle, driving it out to Nine Mile Road to fetch the Impala. By the time they're back in town, it's well into early morning, and Justin's body is reminding him that it's going on the hour power nap in the ride into town. He glances at his siblings, seeing the same signs of fatigue and makes the decision to find a hotel for the night. He and Max have a room at the fraternity, but he's not leaving Alex alone in a motel.

"We should find a place to crash for a few hours." Neither of his siblings comment, and a look in the review mirror shows that Max is already asleep.

He's just pulling onto a main road, trying to remember if he saw any motels on their way into town when he hears sirens. His first instinct is panic, the split second decision of whether he wants to try and outrun the cops (possible in the Chevy) or pull over and hope it's for nothing more than a busted tail light or speeding ticket, but it all fades quickly when three county police vehicles pass by him, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

He looks over at Alex, sees the same thoughts going through his mind reflected on her face and lets out a muffled curse before pressing down on the accelerator slightly to catch up to the disappearing cop cars.

They park just outside a sorority, young girls in colored tank tops and pajama shorts standing outside in small groups while police wonder around taking statements. Justin can see one young woman sitting in the back of an ambulance, blanket wrapped around her shoulders and eyes wide in shock.

"That's Laurie," his sister says, following his line of vision. "Her boyfriend was Rich, the first victim."

"You think there's another?"

Two men carrying a body bag between them exit the building before Alex gets a chance to answer.

"Guess that answers that," Justin mutters, opening the passenger door and making his way up the short walk to a group of girls. "What happened?" he asks with a jerk of his head towards the scene.

"Taylor was murdered last night," replies one, voice alight with something closer to awe than horror, and Justin resists the urge to narrow his eyes at her.

"Friend of Laurie's?" Alex asks from behind him.

"Best," a different girl responds, sounding more shocked than anything. "And her roommate. Poor girl slept through the whole thing."

There's a snort from the first girl, and Justin gets the feeling she's a gossiper, "How could she have slept through that? I'm just saying, if it'd been me, I don't think…"

The Russos walk away, having gotten what they needed and quickly make their way back to the car, gray eyes shifting to check that Max is still sleeping in the back seat.

"Why would The Hook Man come all the way out here? This is a long way from Nine Mile Road." Alex keeps her voice low in an effort not to wake Max.

"First off," Justin says, voice slightly agitated, "it's not _The _Hook Man, we're not even sure this is the same thing that killed Rich and-"

"You think something else supernatural in this town is killing people?" Her voice is all sarcasm, eyes narrowed slightly as she looks at him, and he tries not to react.

"Fine, but it's still not-"

"_A _hook man then. Not really important right now, Justin." Her voice rises and the hunter takes a quick look in the back seat to make sure their little brother is still out; Max snorts softly in his sleep, eyebrows coming together slightly before he settles back down, and Justin breathes a sigh of relief.

"Maybe he's not attached to the road," he says after a moment. "I mean, obviously there's a connection, but…" he chews his bottom lip in thought for a moment, making a turn up a different road and parking along the side. They can get around the cops from here. "Laurie?" He turns to look at his sister. "Maybe it's attached itself to her, when she was on that road?"

"Maybe? But why? Tons of college kids go there to make out, why didn't old Pastor Jacob grab onto any of them?"

"I don't know."

They get out, checking on Max one last time before coming around the back of the house, Alex leading the way before she turns abruptly and stops him.

"I think I should take it from here, you can be look out." His mouth opens to protest before she cuts him off. "Dude, how are you going to explain being in a sorority house if you get caught?" She arches an eyebrow at him and he reluctantly agrees, grumbling as he turns and takes in their surrounds, ignoring his sister's triumphant grin as she turns and heads towards the brick building.

**A/N: I know this is a bit shorter than most of my chapters, but I reached the half way mark on the episode and figured, why not?**

**Reviews=Love**


	17. The Blame Game

16-Hook Man (The Blame Game)

**A/N: Good news for the Jalex fans reading this (and you better at least be ok with Jalex if you are since ultimately this is going to be Jalex) because since I'm taking two episodes from later on and shoving them into earlier slots, I've decided that means I can take one of the earlier episodes that fit better later on and move it to there. What does this mean? Jalex will be taking place sooner in the story than planned. Everyone rejoice!**

Alex moves around the building causally, walking that fine line between trying not to attract attention and trying not to seem like you're trying not to attract attention. A couple of girls walk out a side door, heading towards the front, and Alex ducks her head slightly, allowing her hair to fall in front of her face as she quickly darts through the door they just exited. She stands out in her jeans and boots, dark blue t-shirt having seen several more washes than the ones owned by the girls currently living in this house, but she's hoping no one will notice her well-worn clothes or fully dressed state.

There are only a few bedrooms on the first floor, each marked with girls names on poster boards overly decorated in glitter and doodles, and Alex snorts at the idea of Higher Education if this is what it entails. It's surprisingly not unlike Nights of the Halloween Sorority Disaster one or two, which contradicts how unrelated those movies and all "scary" movies in general are to the real horrors she faces in day to day life.

The hunter casually ascends the stairs, making a point to not use the banister in case the police are still dusting for prints. She's forced to duck inside a random room as a man in uniform comes out of another down the hall. Alex pushes the door mostly shut as she matches her breathing to his footsteps. She peeks her head back out when he's safely out of earshot, looking up and down the hall before quickly moving down to the room the officer had just left.

There's no crime scene tape in front of the door. The yellow and black strips surround the bed instead. She takes in the sheets soaked in blood, breathing in the metallic scent of copper and sharpness of ozone, feeling a small amount of relief that they're dealing with a spirit and not some psycho that's learned to turn invisible. They've always dealt with the supernatural, tending more towards the side of the mystic, and despite her father's insistence that magic and science can't mix, she's always had a small worry about someone discovering a way to combine the two. She blames Justin for that.

She frowns as she catches sight of the wall, shallow scratches stained with red - and isn't that just straight out of a horror movie - spelling out

_AREN'T YOU GLAD YOU_

_DIDN'T TURN ON_

_THE LIGHT_

There's a symbol carved beneath the message, and Alex pulls out her cell to take a picture and send it to Justin. It looks familiar, but she can't place it off the top of her head, not with the lack of sleep she's experiencing and no adrenaline rush to counteract the fog in her brain. She almost wishes the cop would come back up and force her out a window.

She's down the steps and out the building in no time, a quick text of _Omw _sent to her older brother before she's walking casually towards the car. She sees Justin a few feet in front of the Impala, cell phone in one hand and the arrest record for Jacob Carns in the other.

"It's the same," he says as soon as she gets to his side, and she looks at the folder to see a rough sketch of the hook used to replace Pastor Jacob's hand. The same symbol that was carved on the wall is is engraved on a medallion dangling from the hook

"I couldn't place it at first." There's a bitten off yawn in his words, and Alex knows the feeling. "But I knew I recognized it."

"Same here. Now," she takes a step towards the car, "let's find a hotel and get some shuteye." Justin doesn't protest, which surprises her a little. They're both dead on their feet, which makes them a little more than useless to the case at this point, and the next step is to dig up and burn the body - the location should be in the file - which they won't be able to do for several hours yet, but it feels wrong with a fresh body.

She shakes her head quickly, trying to wake herself up a little before hopping in the driver's side and starting up their car.

* * *

She's half tempted to not set her phone alarm as she eyes the motel bed with it's cheap cover and feels her body ache to just lay down and sleep. With a half-muttered curse, she yanks out her phone, setting the annoying device to go off at noon.

She shucks her jeans quickly, pulling the cover back, and sliding between the sheets, just beginning to settle down when the door opens up and Justin enters, duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Where's Max?" he asked, as he tossed the bag at the foot of the other bed.

"I left him in the car."

"Wh- Alex!"

She lets out a groan, pulling the comforter over her head and trying to ignore her brother's annoyed sputtering.

"What's the big deal?" She tossed the blanket back, giving him a glare. "He's ok. And I happen to know that the back seat can be pretty comfortable."

"The big deal? Alex, you can't just-"

"I left him a note. If he wakes up, he'll know to come in. Do you really wanna be the one to carry him inside?" She asks, giving him a pointed look, and he seems unsure for a minute, eyeing the bed. She shifts over, yanking the covers down on the right side. "Now get in, and go to sleep." She rolls over, curling on her side and hoping he'll shut up and take her advice. She feels the bed dip behind her, and she finally relaxes as her brother settles in.

* * *

She wakes to the sound of the door opening, all senses on high alert as she holds perfectly still, evening out her breathing and feigning sleep.

She doesn't relax until Max's voice reaches her, a quick, "It's me," before she cracks her eyes open and looks at her younger brother. One side of his hair is a mess, half standing up and half flattened against his head. Lines from the seams in the car's upholstery mar most of his right cheek, and his shirt is a wrinkled mess.

She feels Justin sit up on her left, and she opens her mouth to snap at him to lay back down when her phone goes off, an annoying beeping filling the room. She groans as she sits up, snatching it from the side table and angrily pressing the "dismiss" button.

She gestures for Max to come closer as Justin stands, stretching for a moment before he reaches down and unzips one of the duffles, pulling the folder with the information on Jacob Carns from within.

"Bring a brush with you," she tells her little brother, propping her back against the head board. "Your brush," she adds quickly.

He hands it over, and one of Alex's hands grasps his wrist before he gets too far, yanking him down in front of her and attacking the mess of auburn locks on his head. It reminds her of when Justin used to do this for her, when she was fresh from the bath and he was getting her ready for bed, the pull of the brush through her wet hair as he'd tell her stories, little boy voice soft and soothing.

"Dammit." Her eyes cut to Justin, taking in his aggravated expression and feeling dread bloom low in her gut. "Jacob Carns was buried in an unmarked grave."

She answers with her own curse, a little more colorful than his, and tosses the brush on the other unused bed. Little brother's hair is as tamed as it can be without wetting it down. "Go brush your teeth," she says, giving Max a little shove off the bed.

"I have the cemetery," he says after a moment. "Old North, but beyond that." He shrugs, tucking the folder neatly back into the bag, and Alex stands, thoughts on what to do until nightfall running through her mind.

"Are you not wearing pants?"

Normally she'd make a joke at his stupidity. In their line of work, there's almost no room for modesty - Justin has a scar on the back of his left thigh that runs up and around the curve of his butt cheek that she helped stitch up - but the way he said it, the sharp gasp in his voice near the end and the _something _in his gaze has her breath coming just a touch faster and heat blossoming under her skin. She's suddenly _aware _of her lack of clothing.

She distinctly hears of the sound of running water in the bathroom, mind suddenly focusing on the sounds her little brother is making in the next room as she turns her gaze away, grabbing her bag and pulling out a fresh pair of jeans. She can feel Justin shifting a few feet away, a slight awkwardness settling into the room as she pulls on her pants.

Their little brother comes out moments later, and Alex quickly snatches up a clean shirt and her bathroom bag as she turns towards the now unoccupied bathroom.

"Find out where the cemetery is," she throws over her shoulder just before shutting the door.

* * *

The awkwardness is gone by the time she's out of the bathroom, and Alex lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Justin's waiting on the bed for the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, and Max is flipping through the credit cards.

"I've got applications for new ones," Justin says, following her line of sight before ducking into the toilet. "We'll send them off before we look into Pastor Carns."

"Look into him? What else do we need to know?"

Max looks up abruptly, snapping his fingers as he points to Alex. "What kind of underwear he wore."

She gives him a look, shaking her head lightly before listening to Justin's answer.

"More like, why it is he attached himself to Laurie. She's connected to all this."

"But does it really matter?" Alex steps back, leaning against the door jam and watching as her brother methodically moves his brush in the little circles they were taught to in school. "Once we burn his body - poof, no more Jacob Carns."

She hears Max behind her saying something about that being kind of sad, but she ignores him as she focuses on her older brother.

"You know what Dad used to say about knowing as much as we can about a case before diving in," he says after spitting out the excess foam into the sink.

"Yeah, but you also know what he says about doing whatever it takes to get the job done. How that's the goal." She takes the moment Justin uses to rinse out his mouth to give a quick look over her shoulder, checking on Max to make sure he's not into mischief when her eyes catch their dwindling supply of plastic credit. "How about you do your research thing, and I'll score us some cash to tidy us over until the new cards come in?"

She catches Justin's eye in the mirror as she turns back, seeing him weigh the pros and cons before he asks, "Who gets Max?"

* * *

She's not sure if she won or lost, her little brother in the passenger seat as she looks for a suitable place to park. Justin had used sound logic and a distinct lack of argument to convince her that Max would be far more productive with her. She kind of agrees with him, he had some valid points, but it's Max.

She pulls into a student parking lot, stopping in a space and putting the Chevy in park. They get out and head inside, Alex double checking the map her brothers brought back with them from the fraternity to make sure she has the right area before slapping the paper against her little brother's chest.

Alex leads the way into the Student Rec building, passing the descent sized gym on the right in favor of a lounging area up ahead. There's a handful of students, mostly guys, and Alex gives the room a friendly smile as she enters. It's not her first pick, but the type of bars they usually frequent are either closed or empty of patrons at the moment.

It takes her twenty minutes of chit chat, and roughly three justifying Max - it'd be so much easier if he didn't talk - before Alex has them pulling out a deck of cards and thinking it was Seth's idea.

* * *

Three hours and barely two-hundred dollars richer, along with a little knowledge on Laurie's former roommate - girl was a bit of a partier - the siblings make their way out of the student compound, Alex texting Justin for an update as she gets in the driver's side.

She gets a reply a minute later. Flipping open the phone so she can read it while steering with her leg, she rolls her eyes and lets out a noise of frustration as she sees the lengthy text her brother sent. Had he never heard of txt spk?

_Think I found the connection. In 1932, a clergy man was arrested for murder, and in 1967 a seminary man was charged with killing several hippies. Both spoke openly against immorality, and both claimed their innocence, stating an invisible man did it. All victims were killed with a "sharp instrument."_

She texts back a quick _laurie? _while jerking the Impala back between the white lines, quick glance into the rear view mirror for anyone who might have seen.

It's takes a couple of moments for her phone to go off, the ringtone telling her Justin's chosen to call instead of a standard text reply. Probably thinks it's safer or something.

"Yeah," she says by way of greeting.

"I'm not sure it's Laurie that's the connection, but I'm hungry, and I'm sure you are, too. I can show you what I found and give you my theory over..." There's a pause, and she can hear Justin breathing in the background for a moment before he says, "I guess it's a little late for lunch. Early dinner? Or is it late lunch if the diner is still serving the lunch special? Perha-"

"Let's just go eat," she interrupts, mildly irritated. "Hell, we've only been up a few hours, let's call it breakfast."

"It's clearly not breakfast."

"Where are we meeting?" she says before he can continue with that thought and aggravate her further.

There's a slight pause, just long enough for the young hunter to know that Justin knows what she's doing before he answers her, "Joe's, the diner we passed on our way into town."

Alex makes a few noises of agreement before giving him a "see you there" and hanging up, foot pressing a little harder on the accelerator.

* * *

She and Max find Justin in the back of the diner, tucked into a corner booth surrounded by papers with a glass of ice water sitting before him. He looks up at their approach, Alex sliding into the booth across from him and giving her little brother a shove when he attempts to take the spot next to her. She settles herself in the middle of the worn faux leather, idly picking up one of the sheets of paper and glancing over it.

"Did we want to order first?"

She looks up to see Justin studying the specials board, a look of utter concentration on his face like it holds some great mystery, and she gives it a quick glance, dismissing the list of menu items written in white chalk before turning back to her brothers. Max is staring at Justin with a slight frown on his face, eyebrows drawn together, and she gives him a look before a waitress approaches them, pen poised over the little pad in her hand.

"Everyone here now?" she asks Justin, and before he can answer, she continues, "What'll ya have?" The woman is wearing what seems to be a permanent scowl, with the air of someone whose seen it all and isn't surprised anymore. "Lifers" her father had called them, and for all their lack of sunshine, smiles, and polite people skills, they never got your order wrong and always kept your cup full.

"Double bacon cheeseburger, curly fries, and a Pepsi," Alex rattles off quickly, not bothering with a menu. Justin orders a salad thing listed on the specials board ("dressing on the side") while Max gets some weird concoction involving peanut butter and mayonnaise before going back to looking thoughtfully confused.

Alex is torn between ignoring her little brother and distracting him so as not to get kicked out of the diner before their food arrives when Justin speaks up, "I think it's Reverend Sorisence. Who the spirit of Pastor Carns attached to."

Her face scrunches in confusion, flipping one of the pages scattered on the table away from her as she asks, "Why? What would he have against any of our victims?"

"In all the cases," he starts moving some of the papers around, "it's a man of religion who openly preached against immorality who was accused of murder. Maybe Laurie's father is trying to protect her from the sins of the world."

He moves a few sheets out of the way as their waitress puts their drinks on the table while Alex mulls over his theory. It has merit, Laurie having looked pretty shaken up over each murder. "Think he's doing it on purpose?"

Justin waits to answer, all three of them sitting back slightly in their seats as the waitress puts their plates before them and walks away without a word.

"How did you get here?" Both she and Justin blink as they look at their younger brother before Alex lets out a snort of laughter as she realizes exactly what's been occupying her brother's mind these last few minutes.

"I got a ride from one of the frat guys," he says slowly, and Max seems to deem this satisfactory, and he nods and turns to his sandwich. "I'm not sure," he says, turning back to Alex, "maybe."

She runs a curly fry through ketchup, taking a bite before deciding the _why_'s and _who_'s didn't really matter. Research is a totally pointless and Justin thing half the time.

"We need to find that grave tonight." She takes a drink of her soda, Justin nodding in agreement, mouth full of some disgusting green leafy thing that Alex refuses to acknowledge anyone in their family would actually enjoy eating. She avoids looking at Max. Having grown up with him, she'd gotten used to her little brother's eating habits, but she'd still rather not be thinking about the taste of peanut butter while eating her cheeseburger.

"Sweet," her little brother mutters around his own bite, and Alex is uncertain if he means his food or the notion they'll be digging around in a cemetery come nightfall.

"Until then," Alex says, half in reluctance, "we should keep an eye on Laurie and her father. Just in case."

"We'll have to split up," Justin adds, swirling his fork around his salad bowl. "You and Max take Laurie. I'll watch Reverend Sorisence."

"Now wait a minute." Alex narrows her eyes, glaring at her brother across the table. "If it is attached to the dad, you'll need back up." When Justin opens his mouth in protest, the young hunter quickly adds, "Safety in numbers." A smug smile comes across her face when he shoots her an irritated look back.

"It'll look less suspicious if you're watching Laurie. Since you've actually met her and all. You can say you wanted to talk to her."

"Fine," she agrees, giving a little nod before a smile blooms across her face, "but you get Max."

Little brother in question lets out a half offended "hey!" a few minutes later when their check arrives.

* * *

The entire argument turned out to be moot when they found Laurie staying at her dad's, the reverend having seemingly convinced her to move back home temporarily.

The three of them sit across the street in the Impala, watching the father and daughter duo argue in what appears to be the kitchen. As Laurie storms off in a huff, her father looking pained behind her, Alex steps from the car to stretch her legs, leaning back against the passenger door and shoving her hands in her jacket pocket. Next time, they're taking a case in Florida.

A few moments later, she can hear the front door closing and sees Laurie coming towards her and her brothers. She gives a quick look inside to Justin before facing the young woman head on.

"I saw you out here," she says with a small smile, and Alex relaxes some.

"We were worried. Well," she adds when she realizes how odd that must sound, Laurie has never meet either of her brothers. "_I_ was worried."

"That's sweet of you."

Alex fights a snort, instead pasting on what she hopes is a slightly concerned smile. "You and your dad have a fight?"

Laurie's smile fades, and Alex is quick to add, "Saw through the window."

The other girl's arms come up to cross over her chest, turning to face away, and Alex takes a step away from the car, silently leading them away from her brothers' prying ears. She'll share the important bits later, but it always seems to put the people they meet at ease if they can discuss some things one on one. It still amazes her that people are willing to go off by themselves with any of them, although she supposes her slender build and barely five foot four height might make her seem less dangerous.

There's a moment of silence as they start down the street before Laurie speaks, "He told me he's dating again."

The young hunter keeps her mouth closed, trying to imagine her own father dating and if that would bother her. Theresa has always been such a big part of their life, Dad's life, that she can't really picture it, can't place the man she knows into the arms of another woman while her mother still has such a hold over him.

"She's married," Laurie says suddenly, breaking into Alex's thoughts. Her voice takes on a hard tone, marred only by the slight thickening of her throat as she fights back tears. "I know her husband, they go to our church. I've watched her kids." She turns abruptly to look at Alex, arms still crossed over her chest and eyes angry. "He taught me, raised me to believe that you have to do the right thing. That if you do something wrong, you'll be punished, and yet here he is." She makes a sharp move through the air with her hand, turning away to look back at the house, and Alex looks behind her to see the front door opening once more, the reverend looking out at the two of them. She can't see his face, but Alex'd bet he's still upset by the fight with his daughter.

"I think it's time to come in." His voice rings out over the yard and across the concrete street, and Laurie stiffens.

"I'll come in when I want to." And even to Alex's ears she sounds young and angry, hints of rebellion lacing her tone as she stares defiantly back at the man who raised her with such high morals, only to break those same rules he'd so painstakingly drilled into his daughter.

Suddenly, a figure forms behind the reverend, solidifying into Pastor Carns, one hand wrapping around the older man and jerking him back into the house. There's barely a moment's pause before Alex and Laurie are rushing across the street, the sounds of the Impala's doors slamming shut, letting Alex know that her brothers aren't too far behind.

She's through the door quickly, pausing for a second to listen for clues as to the man's whereabouts. There's a shout from up the stairs, muffled through the ceiling, but Alex is off, half noting the three sets of shoes that seem to be following her before she's busting through a bedroom door. Laurie's father is lying on the ground conscious, although there's a large amount of blood on and around his face, the dark figure of Pastor Carns above him, hooked hand poised to strike.

She hears the bang of a shotgun behind her, turning just enough to see Justin with the weapon raised, firing rock salt at the ghost. Or perhaps it's technically considered a poltergeist now. The figure disappears into smoke, leaving a shattered window in its wake.

Laurie shoves through them, cries of "daddy" on her lips as she drops to her knees beside her father.

Alex exchanges significant looks with Justin. Definitely attached to Laurie.

* * *

They don't get to follow the ambulance to the hospital, Alex having to stay behind to give her statement to the police.

"Yes, a man appeared behind Mr. Sorisence. Laurie and I were outside talking, and Mr. Sorisence came out, and that's when he appeared." It's the third time she's had to explain the same thing, and it dawns on her that Laurie's a suspect. She fights the urge to roll her eyes, her opinion of the local cops - or cops in general - dropping lower. "My brothers were in the car, I'm not sure what all they saw, but I know they saw us." She's half mentioned this before, but this the first time she's using it as an alibi, hoping the older officer taking her statement will get the hint, and move on to a different suspect. And hopefully away from Alex so she can find some bones to burn. It's getting dark.

They drive off a little over an hour later, Alex filling her brothers in on what Laurie told her about her father's new girlfriend.

"So the roommate pressured her to party, her father was part of an affair, and the boyfriend- what? Tried to get a little handsy?"

Justin looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Probably. He does seem to be targeting those who have sinned in Laurie's eyes."

"Remind me not to piss this girl off," Max mutters from the back seat as Justin parks the Chevy along the side of the road.

There's no fence around the graveyard. The three of them begin on the end closer to their vehicle, flashlights in one hand and shovels in the other - at least for the boys. Alex, however, is carrying a single pump shotgun loaded with rock salt. Justin had complained at first, citing that they'd already been arrested once, and he doesn't want to risk arrest again in the same town with the same officers, but Alex had argued back. Spirits had a habit of getting angry when you dig up their graves.

There are four tombstones without names, and her brothers get started on one while Alex keeps watch. No ghosts and no cops show up by the time Justin's broken the top of the wooden casket.

"This one's wearing a dress," he states, gray eyes looking up at her colored in frustration. Alex lets out a curse.

"I'll fill this one back up, you two start over there," she says with a sigh. She ignores the surprised look Justin sends her, staring instead at the grave unhappily. It's not her first choice, but making her brothers do it takes too much time, and she's already bored.

The hole is only half filled and sweat is already dripping down Alex's back unpleasantly when she hears a shout from her left. She turns sharply in time to see Max ducking the swipe of Pastor Carns, silver hook barely missing her little brother's head. She reacts quickly, dropping the shovel and reaching for the shotgun. She gets the weapon lifted, firing off a shot at the specter. It disappears as the salt hits its back, and Justin starts digging faster, Max rolling back into the grave with his own shovel.

Alex keeps the gun up, dark eyes darting around for any signs of the ghost. There's a scraping sound, and the young hunter turns quickly to see a large gouge being carved into a tombstone, and she fires blindly at it, cursing to herself as she remembers that he can go invisible.

"Un-fucking-fair," she hisses as another headstone gets marked and she fires towards it. A force knocks the gun from her hands, shoving her onto her back, and she can hear Justin shout her name. She moves quickly, trying to keep ahead of the pissed off pastor. She's half tempted to check on her brothers' progress, but squashes the urge, her father's training having taught them to trust each other and that any minor distraction from her job could get her injured or worse.

She hears the distinct sound of wood breaking as she feels a slash across the forearm she has raised to protect her face. She rolls away quickly, pushing to her feet as her eyes search for the shotgun. She spots it a few feet away and rushes to it quickly, keeping her injured arm against her side and reaching the other down to snatch up her fallen weapon. She turns and aims, but the figure of Pastor Carns has reappeared by his grave. Alex can see Justin frantically squeezing lighter fluid onto the remains from above while Max holds a lit match ready inside. She aims and fires, blasting the specter just as he moves his arm towards her brother.

The youngest Russo drops the match as the salt hits Pastor Carns, and she knows the exact moment the body catches flame because that's when the spirit starts to burn, flesh seeming to crackle away even as she knows that it's unreal. It ends with the hook, the silver of it seeming to melt into nothingness as it falls towards the grass.

As the last trace of Joseph Carns fades, all that's left is the sound of the siblings' heavy breathing and the night insects. It seems almost anti-climatic, but Alex will take it. She moves to her brothers, watching Max pull himself from the grave and giving Justin a quick look for injuries. It's not until she catches him doing the same that the hunter remembers her injured arm, still cradled protectively against her side.

She unfurls it, exposing the short and shallow gash just below the crook of her left elbow. Her shirt's ruined, torn and now stained with blood and Alex smiles wickedly as she looks up at her older brother. "Guess this means you and Max get to fill both graves."

**A/N: I originally had an entire scene for Alex beating the college guys at poker, but then the rest of the chapter got a little long so I cut/shortened it.**

**I Googled Selena Gomez's height and got three different heights, I used the middle one.**

**Yeah, so I changed the ending a bit. Whereas I liked Laurie figuring it out, blaming herself and thus inadvertently sending Pastor Carns after herself, I didn't like how the hook was supposedly part of him (if that was the case, I'm sure my cell phone is something my spirit could attach to), so I nixed that.**

**I wrote and rewrote the "Alex brushes Max's hair" part several times. I couldn't really picture Wizards of Waverly Place Alex doing that, but I could this Alex, which made me all worried that I'd somehow gotten her out of character until it dawned on me **_**why**_** this Alex would but canon Alex wouldn't. Ten points to whoever can guess why. (Although you may have to be in my head.)**

**Reviews=Love**


	18. Author's Note

**Author's Note: I have recently received a review stating that some of my readers are extremely angry at my not updating in a timely manner. At first I was very angry (as those who follow me on twitter can attest to) but after a long rant and some wonderful online friends who assured me that they understood and supported me and to not take the review to heart, I've decided that those faithful readers who have patiently, and not so patiently, waited through this long process with me deserved an explanation far more than someone who threatens to bad mouth my writing because my personal life problems are interfering with their recreational reading.**

**To put it plainly, I have no time.**

**I work two full time jobs at the moment. The reason for this is that my mother lost her job and so to help her make her bills and such I quit college and moved back home as well as took a second job. The second job would have stayed at just part-time, but then my mother and I decided to start fresh with a move as neither of us like the town we live in and have often talked of moving. We found our city (my mother's hometown) and due to a need for funds to move on, my mom unable to find anything more than part-time and a shortage of people at my part-time job, I went full-time at both places.**

**I've spent the past nine months preparing for a cross country move, which involves more than just packing. Try apartment hunting without being able to actually see any of the apartments. Plus, when I informed my friends, they all declared that they wished to spend as much time with me as possible until I leave. Something I also want. So a lot of my free time has gone to them, which is something I feel you all should be understanding about. **

**I also needed to get rid of a lot of stuff I did not wish to bring with me, this involved going through all of my clothes, furniture, dishes, etc. and organizing a yard sale. What didn't sell went to the local safe house for women with a few being put aside to go on eBay. My mom, who used to sell Premier Design jewelry, decided to sell her old show jewelry on eBay as well. She developed carpel tunnel in college and it flared up while doing this, so I had to take several weeks and put the pieces on there for her. **

**Not too long ago my best friend called to inform me that her and her husband were getting a divorce. On top of being there for her through this tough time, I helped her move out of her house and into an apartment. She called me a up a few days later to tell me that her not-yet-ex-husband had been dating a good friend of ours. They'd been dating for a while. **

**Another friend of mine, whose been overseas, was on leave for a week and he, as well as I, wanted to spend some time together before he left again and I move, since chances are we won't see each other again. **

**My mother's love language is time spent (if you don't know what that is, you are welcome to message me and I'll give you a brief description), and with my time being so consumed lately, she's become pretty demanding of what time left I do have, reducing my writing time to virtual none.**

**These are just a few of the things I've been dealing with the past year (mainly focused on the past two to three months) not including my dog passing away, helping another friend through a tough break-up, and normal life demands (like grocery shopping and bill pay). **

**Now, through all this I've tried to maintain writing as much as my limited free time allowed, while still maintaining my relationships with those closest to me. I am sorry that it has taken me so long between updates and had I known before I started this story, I would have put off posting any chapters until after I had moved.**

**Onto the good news. My moving date is during the first week of August. My mother has already found a job in our new city and I will no longer be working and instead I'll be taking the necessary courses to become a phlebotomist which will be my career while I pursue my dream if being a writer. At that point my life should slow down enough for me to update on a more regular basis. Please allow for a few weeks settling time before sending me little reminders to update. I happily welcome little pokes and prods as reminders to update and in fact very much encourage them (as long as they aren't rude.)**

**I apologize for having not told you this sooner, but I had, mistakenly, assumed that people would rather not be bored with my personal problems and would just realize I was taking care of other issues in my real life. I ask for patience, as my real life and the people in it take precedence over my online fandom activities.**

**As for the ones who are angry at me for my personal life getting in the way of updating an online fictional story that is apparently so important to their happiness, I offer them a simple "screw you." I in no way blame anyone for getting frustrated or telling people I take far too long to update (it's the truth), but I do not appreciate being called a "shitty writer" because I don't update fast enough. If someone doesn't like my writing style then don't read my stories. Everyone is free to say whatever they please to whomever they please, but don't make something up that you don't think is true just because I'm not doing something that you want me to do.**

**Also, I prefer messages to be sent to me and not through a third party in an anon review. **

**As for now I officially declare this story, and all others of mine, on hiatus, as I will no longer stress myself with updating as soon as I am able (without posting a chapter that isn't complete crap). I am extremely stressed at it is, and have become sick twice for not being able to give myself any sort of break. I can't even take sick days from my jobs as the money is highly needed at the moment. I will still write when I can and reply to messages. Again, to my readers that are so patiently waiting on an update, I apologize for this and hope that you understand and bear with me a little longer. **


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